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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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THE COLUMBIAN MEMORIAL EDITION 



ROBERT W. STOUT'S 



POETICAL WORKS 



Complete in One Volume. 



AUTHOR'S EDITION 







BUFFALO 

CHARLES WELLS MOULTON 

i8q2 




"35 



Copyright, 1892, 
By ROBERT W. STOUT. 



Printed by 



Charles Wells Moulton, Buffalo, N. Y. 



DEDICA TED 

TO THE 

CITIZENS OF CHICAGO 

AND THE 

LOVERS OF LIBERTY THROUGHOUT 
THE WORLD. 



PREFACE. 

The author in seeking a place amongst the bright 
galaxy of American poets who have achieved a permanent 
place in the affections of their countrymen, is not actuated 
by sordid or self- laudatory motives, but because he feels as 
an American citizen, it is his inalienable right, as such, to 
explore in fields that are most pleasing to his fancy and 
acceptable to his understanding. Whilst the human mind 
is of infinite variety, man will seek according to his bent, if 
he be true to his instincts, the avocation that accords most 
truly with his faculties; and, in doing so, will aim to 
accomplish more than the mere pecuniary reward. It is this 
principle that elevates and enobles every occupation. The 
lawyer who can see beyond his fee; the physician who 
aims to ameliorate the pain and affliction, of his fellow-men ; 
the teacher in the house of God or halls of learning who 
rightly considers the obligations of his trust, are far above 
the mere drudge in the routine of life, for they aid in 
elevating the race, and hence are worthy of all honor. 

The author' humbly ventures within the broad and 
pleasant precincts of the muse — fields that have been 



trodden by the mighty of many nations — with much 
trepidation, but witli the earnest desire tliat his aspirations 
may beai* worday fruit, and would ask the forbearance and 
intellisrent discrimination of his readers. 

It has been his aim to publish notliing but diat which 
is pure, chaste and instructive in character and elevating in 
principle, and in accord with true and rehned religious 
instniction and tlie precepts of the Word, that add a charm 
to any work : thus to be worthy of a place in every home. 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Dedication v 

Preface vU 

Address to the City of Chicago, and Memorial Greeting to 

ColumVjus I 

Preface to the Song of Liberty 5 

Analysis to the Song of Liberty 7 

The Song of Liberty — Part I 9 

The Song of Liberty— Part II 16 

The Song of Liberty— Part III 25 

Ahasuerus — Canto I 33 

Ahasuerus — Canto II 37 

Ahasuerus — Canto III 41 

Ahasuerus — Canto IV 48 

NATIONAL AND PATRIOTIC POEMS. 

The Grangers' Alliance 57 

The Cause is All 64 

The Anthem of the Free 65 

Bunker Hill 68 

My Native Land '. . . 70 

The Veteran's Return 73 

Washington's Birthday 75 

Memorial Day 76 

The Soldier Boy 77 

Resurgam 78 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Battle of Lookout Mountain, and Mission-Ridge 79 

The Drummer Boy of Gettysburg 82 

The Prison-Pen 86 

TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

The Aerie 97 

The Treasure-Trove 105 

The Reconstructed Rebel 115 

Prairie Flower, or Love's Adventure 119 

The Hunter's Camp 125 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Faith's Sweet Trust 143, 

Intellectual Powers 147 

The Daisy 160 

The Wine Cup 165 

The Builders 166 

The Drunkard Redeemed 169 

The Wanderer's Refuge 172 

Our Redeemer Liveth 173 

Woman's Love 174. 

Wealth 175 

The Shattered Vase 175 

Waiting for the Verdict 177 

Old Bill 179 

Spring's Welcome 186 

Faith 187 

My Beloved 18S 

'Tis Ever Thus 189 

Spring 191 



CONTENTS. xi 

PAGE 

The Star of Bethlehem 192 

The Old Love 194 

Misfortune 195 

Mirth 196 

Contentment 197 

Friendship 198 

Rest 198 

Poverty 201 

Friendship 202 

Love 203 

Waiting 204 

Words of Love 206 

Thanksgiving 207 

Rest for the Weary 209 

Echo 210 

Folly's Mishap 212 

Love's Inspiration 213 

Spring 214 

God's Creatures 215 

Love Flings a Charm 216 

The Poet 218 

The Maiden's Leap .' 220 

Ellen Hughes 226 

Human Rats 229 

Love's Sweet Refuge 231 

The Dnmkard's Fate 223 

TYPES OF WOMEN. 

Cornelia — Domestic Felicity 235 

Felicia Hemens — Genius 237 

Elizabeth Fry — Sympathy 238 



xii COXTi:XTS. 

PAGE 

Lady Macbetli — Ambition 239 

Cleopatra — Gorgeousness 241 

Eliza McCook — Patriotism 243 

Rosaline, The Slave Mother — Maternal Love 245 

POEMS OF SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 

A Kiss 249 

The Old Homestead 251 

The Burial at Sea 253 

The Parting- 255 

In Memorinm 257 

The Fatlier's Return 25S 

Fond Memories 261 

The ^'oices of tlie Past 262 

A Christmas Tale 264 

Ella 266 

The Exile of Erin 267 

Sleep Sweetly, Gentle Spirit 271 

FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

Pixy's Betrotlial 273 

Pixy's Wedding 276 

The Fairies' Child 279 

Cupid Captured 2S1 

The Fate of tlie Fair 2S3 

\"ajivt\- 2S5 



ADDRESS TO THE CITY OF CHICAGO 

AND MEMORIAL GREETING TO 

COLUMBUS. 

Written to covwtenwrate the Columbian Expositioti 
held at Chicago. 

GREAT, wonderful City, where bright Genius glows 
And Beauty doth blossom in culture's repose! 
I hail thee, thou fair one, the brightest among 
Thy sweet sisters who bloom in the land of my song! 
I recall now with pleasure those bright, happy hours, 
In youth's sunny spring when I dwelt in thy bowers, 
When the heart is most hopeful, all careless and light. 
And life's future prospects look cheerful and bright. 
Thou art changed in the days that so swiftly have flown, 
How wondrous the grandeur thy present doth own ! 
Thou marvel of cities! fit type to express , 
The triumphs of Freedom, and Labor no less! 
For it was not by conquest and pillage of spoil, 
But by skill and the fruits of true wisdom and toil. 
That have built up thy greatness exempt from the guilt, 
That shadows the splendors where tyrants have built. 
'Tis fitting, thou great central mart! to respond 
To the instinct of intellect's creative bond, 
That bestows as a right the just homage that's due 
To a soul so undaunted, unfaltering and true, 
As his that inspired to create the fair scene. 
That spreads in its beauty around and between 



ADDRESS TO THE CITY OF CHICAGO. 

Thy broad bounds that do stretch o' er the prairies afar, 
And the lake's silvery wave that doth circle to bar, 
That now bears on its bosom the harvest of lands, 
That is reaped by the toil of its millions of hands. 

Should thy spirit, Columbus! be hovering around, 
Methinks thou wouldst gaze with rapt wonder profound, 
At the prospect before like a magical scene — 
Exceeding in splendor and grandeur, I ween, 
All before that's depicted on history's page! 
'Tis the climax of skill of a marvelous age! 
But perchance like a dream thy great soul did foresee — 
Like a vision's vast vista it opened to thee. 
When tossed on the waves of the great boundless vast; 
When its spell was upon thee, around thy soul cast. 
There did gleam o'er thy spirit the future's great store. 
At least this is sure, thou didst open the door. 
And lo! 'twas the portal where Freedom came in! 
And Liberty, too, was but waiting to win 
For her empire, a continent boundless and vast. 
By Jehovah reserved from the guilt of the past — 
The guilt of its conquests, its passions and greed — 
'Twas reserved for His children oppressed and in need! 
Then its prairies lay silent, all fertile and wild. 
Its far western mountains all nameless were piled 
In grandeur profound; its rivers flowed on 
As mighty as now, in the days that are gone; 
No sound then did echo, no footstep had trod, 
O'er its wide-spreading prairies' then virgin sod, 
Save the wild agile hunter, of race then unknown. 
Who has passed from our view like a dream that has flown. 
Uncultured its valleys, unfettered its streams. 
No flag yet reflected its sun's golden beams; 



MEMORIAL GREETING TO COLUMBUS. 3 

All unvexed were its waves by an insolent foe, 
Exempt from all strife, all contention and woe: 
Like a vast precious storehouse 'twas locked all alone, 
Till thy skill showed the way o'er the boundless unknown. 
Columbus, great soul! yes, the honor is thine. 
Who of mortals alone did conceive the design, 
And with patience unequaled explored the lone way, 
Undismayed by the dangers that lurked to delay! 
Then thy honors wear proudly, being honestly won. 
Through true courage and deeds, all so worthily done! 
Brave Admiral! we hail thee a hero in truth, 
'Mongst the mighty, the peer of the greatest in sooth! 
For thine was the hand that guided the helm. 
That opened to Freedom a glorious realm! 
God's care did encompass, protecting from harm, 
When the wild angry waters waked round thee alarm; 
He sustained thee undaunted, He sheltered to save. 
When thy timid companions did fear the strange wave, 
Columbus ! thy name is kept green on the part 
Of each soul that revereth thy greatness of heart! 
All undimmed is the lustre that circles thee round! 
We bow to thy worth with due reverence profound! 
Unvexed now by care, or ingratitude's wrong. 
Thy true fame's recorded in history and song! 
May thy dust still be cherished by sons of the brave. 
Of that gem of the ocean that gives thee a grave! 
And now we recall the bright dawn of that day, 
When his sails were first furled on Guanahani's deep bay; 
On its strand 'midst a tumult of gladness and praise, 
Whilst the land in its beauty lay spread to their gaze, 
They first raised the emblem, the symbol of light. 
That soon would illume with a radiance bright, 



ADDRESS TO THE CITY OF CHICAGO. 

All the regions then compassed by darkness profound, 
The glad tidings to speed to each far distant bound; 
In the fullness of heart they then knelt on the strand, 
Whilst Thy praises, O God! did resound o'er the land 
In an anthem of gladness, the spirit's o'erflow, 
That only the tried of Thy people can know. 

'Tis past — they have fled — but their memory goes on, 
In the records that live of the days that are gone; 
Their deeds, like a scene in a pageant, have cast 
A halo of romance o' er all the long past. 
Then place for the hero who led of the brave 
Of the sons of old Spain in the way o'er the wave, 
To a continent vast — this far western land! 
A nation to-day giveth praise to that band, 
Who braved the wild billows of oceans unknown. 
Unfurled the bright banner of Christ all alone 
On a strange wondrous coast, far, far from their home 
In sunny old Spain, 'midst dire perils to roam. 
Nor 'grudge to those sovereigns most liberal and wise. 
Who beyond the false glitter of thrones, saw to prize 
The true merit of genius, of intellect's worth, 
The mighty 'mongst men, the true kings of old earth. 

Columbia's fair daughter, the pride of the free, 
Yes! this far distant city pays tribute to thee! 
Unto thee, brave old Admiral! she brings of her store. 
Sweet perfumes and gems, like fair Sheba before. 
And spreads of her treasures more precious than those, 
The mar\'els of labor, all of value that flows 
From industry, virtue and intellect's source, 
All that beareth man on in true progressive course! 
She would scorn to a foe to bend her proud knee, 
But because of thy worth now does homage to thee. 



PREFACE TO THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

The following Poem is dedicated to the lovers of Liberty 
throughout the world. 

The inspiration of Liberty is one of the loftiest sentiments 
of the human mind; who is most enlightened and familiar 
with history will be most inspired by it. 

The time seems ripe when there should be a more definite 
understanding between those who have a sincere regard for 
Liberty and desire to reform the fundamental laws that con- 
trol the welfare of the human race; and that all such should 
make an earnest effort to improve the condition of the down- 
trodden of all nations. 

The author does not seek to promulgate doctrines that 
would lead to the disintegration of States, but advocates ob- 
viously necessary changes in the form of laws; neither does 
he wish to inculcate ideas that would lead to the nullification 
of existing just and humane laws; on the contrary, it is the 
paramount object of the author to uphold order and justice, 
without which it would be impossible to maintain Liberty. 

We advocate that the whole people of each nation should 
be the source of governing power, and that that power 
should be tempered by divine instruction; that forms of gov- 
ernment emanating from such source and founded on sound 
principles of justice are the necessity of the time. 

Despotic and oligarchical forms of governing power have 
been on trial long enough to practically demonstrate that 
they have failed to secure to their people prosperity or jus- 
tice; hence we deduce that there can be no risk in venturing 



6 PREFACE TO THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

upon a different course, more just and humane in its princi- 
ples, because it is obvious that such a change would secure 
and surround its advocates with blessings that make life de- 
sirable. 

The theory that the people at large are unfit or incapable 
of organizing and sustaining a superior form of government, 
has long been proved to be unsound where it has been tried; 
where it has not been tried, it is quite evident that an honest 
effort towards a radical change would result in practical bene- 
fit to the larger proportion of the people, if a wise prudence 
was exercised to carry such people up from the effects of the 
debasing and paralyzing influences which in the past have 
cramped and crushed their energies. 

A new era, fraught with great results for civilization, is 
dawning upon the world: the hand of a beneficent Creator 
will lead his people from out the wilderness of wrong, suffer- 
ing and despair, and point the way to a higher and happier 
condition. 

If the opponents of Liberty ask, "By what right the 
author presumes to question the affairs of nations to which 
he is alien ? ' ' the answer is, ' ' By the right flowing from the 
common brotherhood of man that knows no special language 
or boundary; which is recognized by all lovers of humanity 
as a general right; by the same right that the common safety 
demands of us to use our best endeavors to suppress the 
slave-trade, piracy or any glaring evil that imposes or in- 
volves wrong and danger to the weak and helpless; above 
all, when it is detrimental to the moral development of the 
human race." 

There are two great, real dangers that threaten organized 
society to-day, and both are the natural result of despotic 
or oligarchical forms of government; one caused by such 



PREFACE TO THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 7 

government favoring the few at the expense of the many, 
thus creating a privileged and titled class, thereby discour- 
aging honest enterprise and national thrift; the other, that 
result of such wrong, that creates a vast undercurrent of 
vice, ignorance, poverty, and consequently misery, which 
seeks to avenge itself on society without due discrimination. 

National governing laws, founded on true principles of 
justice, would remove both dangers and carry the people to 
a higher and happier consummation of their natural destiny. 

He who loves Liberty cannot afford to be indifferent to 
any encroachments upon its vital principles. 



ANALYSIS OF THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

The Song of Liberty opens with a retrospect of the past 
and natural inquiry as to where Liberty was first inculcated. 
Upon reviewing the history of the past, we search in vain to 
find true Liberty. Where Liberty has lent a momentary gleam 
over the despotic form of government of the past, we find 
upon investigation that it was far from meeting our present 
conception of its just and humane principles, consequently, 
the writer takes the broad ground that it has been a gradual 
awakening or development of the mind of man through or 
by the light of Divine Revelation. 

The attention of the reader is directed to some of the facts 
of history relating to despotism, showing the hypocrisy of 
any pretended kindly interest in the welfare of the people 
on the part of monarchical rulers — the cowardly and con- 
temptible nature of conquerors who are actuated by sordid 



8 ANALYSIS OF THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

or selfish motives — from their devastating wars no adequate 
good has resulted — that they are unworthy of the praise 
usually bestowed upon them ; — a review of some of the lead- 
ing nations of the world, beginning with Great Britain — her 
grasping and oppressive policy in the treatment of Ireland 
and India, — of France, urging her to take a higher and more 
honorable position in the future, — of changes impending in 
Russia, — that Spain can be regenerated only through the in- 
fluence of more liberal principles, — speaking in general terms 
of the condition of central Europe, — of the decay of Turkey, 
— the degenerated condition of Asiatic nations, — the relent- 
less nature of despotism and debased state of man in the past. 

Shall oppressive power still deny mankind their obvious 
rights ? A higher power has decreed that the mind of man 
shall expand and progress. 

The efforts of the advocates of Liberty in the past have 
not been in vain; evident progress has been made. 

An apostrophe to Washington — allusion to the govern- 
ment of the United States of North America — the advance 
of Liberty — the glorious result of its tranquilizing influences 
upon the human passions. 

The era of peace, happiness and love that will flow from 
a due observance of the principles of Liberty as made mani- 
fest through the Word and Law of our Heavenly Father for 
the final regeneration of the world. 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

" Ubi Libetias, Ibi Patria.'" 

TIS LIBERTY that doth inspire 
The patriot with heroic fire, 
Bids baseness from his soul depart, 
Bids youth to play the warrior's part, 
And prompts each worthy wife and maid 
To deem it duty's course to aid 
The cause most cherished by each race — 
Redemption from their bondage base; 
The bonds that curb the mind's true course, 
The bondage of the law's fell force. 
That fetters the aspiring soul 
That thirsteth for a higher goal. 

PART I. 

Sweet Liberty! o'er all the earth 
What favored country owns thy birth ? 
We search the past from age to age, 
But find no clue on history's page: 
Though many lands assume to claim, 
How false, their code of laws proclaim! 
The past recorded of each clime. 
Is but a chronicle of crime, 
Where tyrants ruled each subject land, 
And Rapine spread on every hand. 



lO THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

Where Conquest rolled in blood along, 
To vex a world harassed with wrong; 
All quenched the glow of Freedom's light 
To gloom each race with Sorrow' s blight, 
Or shone athwart each nation's way 
At intervals with fitful ray; 
Where Liberty's aspiring cause 
Was fettered by unrighteous laws; 
Where still desponding patriots bleed 
In vain to check some despot's greed; 
And modern rulers yet aspire, 
Unblushing own the vain desire. 
To pluck the emblem steeped in gore — 
The tarnished garland Caesar wore. 

We turn in sadness from the page 
Depicting wrong from tyrant rage; 
Thus, see the patriot firm and brave, 
'Twas Austria gave an early grave; 
And thou of nations vaunted most. 
Gave slavery to many a coast, 
Nor was there pity in thy creed 
When conquered nations knew thy greed, 
Or untold victims felt the brunt 
Of Tyranny's judicial front; 
And hark, where northern tempests moan 
To sounding knout or dying groan! 
Or milder skies by nature blest 
But view a land by Wrong oppressed; 
Where Rank usurps each natural right 
To curse each home with Want's dread blight; 
Where Justice, captive, shorn and prone, 
Is symbolized by Power alone. 



ThM song of liber TV. I i 

Whose savage instincts flout to scorn 

Those bleeding backs all gashed and torn 

By darker deeds of rankling hate — 

His plea, "The safety of the State 

Makes vengeance right, though sad the need ' ' ; 

Claims " Love and pity still his creed." 

'Tis such as midnight thieves accord 

Viewing some victim's treasured hoard; 

Such pity as hyenas yield, 

When prowling o'er a battle-field 

For crippled warriors' puny strife, 

Who struggle for the boon of Hfe; 

The cowards from the helpful shrink, 

But of the weaker' s life-tide drink. 

Where'er dread Tyranny builds sure, 
Each law and form's a deadly lure; 
There suffering millions sigh in vain, 
Live, but to hope for future gain. 
Whilst Craft still bars each pleasing way. 
To bid inquiring Thought to stay. 
Held on the barren edge of doubt. 
Lured on by show of good held out. 

Like mariners all wan with care. 
Who see some distant beacon's glare. 
Content in soul each eye is bent, 
Where Hope portrays good will be blent. 
With all the evils long endured 
By hearts to hardship's lot inured. 
Think, soon their shattered bark will ride. 
Upon soine haven's gentle tide; 
And fancy pictures to each mind 
That there warm friends with greetings kind, 



12 THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

With hearts that kindred ties unite, 
Will all the past of pain requite; 
When lo! that lure but lights the way 
Where watchful robbers lurk for prey; 
So monarchs with deceit beguile, 
Still lure their subjects with some wile, 
While Guilt doth aid each shameless fraud, 
And Pretence all their ways doth laud; 
Confiding, they will know the pain. 
Their rulers joy in all the gain. 

Leagued tyrants, thus, unyielding still. 
Professing much they'll ne'er fulfil. 
Assuming show of grace and love, 
With claimed endowment from above 
Of supreme and exclusive power, 
And sovereign rank as special dower, 
Assert the throne the source to be, 
Of mercy flowing full and free. 
Can mercy from Oppression flow ? 
What general good can Wrong bestow ? 
Where'er their crime-stained hands have shorn, 
There should they know their subjects' scorn; 
Thus learn, each honest soul of worth 
Would shame to gloom the lowly hearth. 

Presumptuous baubles of a day! 
Encumbering with your worthless clay 
Through unjust power each high estate. 
And yet of grace and mercy prate! 
Go, vampires of the human race! 
Seek mercy ye and plead for grace, 
For well your crime-stained souls should know. 
No mercy from your God will flow, 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 13 

Unless in penitence ye seek 

The Heavenly grace that crowns the meek. 

Go trace each despot's fell career — 
Behold a thousand crimes appear! 
Oh! witness Thou indignant Heaven, 
Each dastard act to history given! 
See where each guilty path hath been 
Strown with the blasting fruit of sin ! 
The people's paltry gains they've wrung, 
Then to some favored minion flung 
Such hard-earned hoard of peasant's dole, 
Nor shamed to play su.ch petty role; 
A cruel, grasping, braggart crew. 
To naught but selfish interest true. 

Each bold usurper of man's rights. 
Still hopes for conquest where he fights; 
His suffering subjects die in vain. 
Or strive their brothers to enchain; 
The father from his home is torn. 
Causing his loved ones long to mourn. 
For forced to join the ranks of Power, 
Disaster o'er his home must lower. 
What recks Oppression if the best 
Of all the nation sleep at rest. 
Or wasted field or ruined cot 
Bring sorrow to the toiler's lot, 
Provided Conquest's brutal course. 
Obedient to the law of force, 
Through blood in triumph borne along, 
Shall be the burden of each song 
That menial rhymsters of his train, 
His deeds in fulsome verses frame! 



14 The song of liberty. 

Tyrant! what gain is thy fell power 
That bids each subject trembling cower, 
Bereft by thy despotic might, 
And robbed of every natural right ? 
Of what avail all pride of state ? 
Can such avert the hand of fate ? 
Can senseless form or silly show 
Check for a moment Time's dread flow? 
Can all thy pomp, thy power or pride, 
Keep the Dark Angel from thy side. 
Whose wings are poised e'en while perchance. 
And shadow now thy stricken glance ? 
Too soon portentous crimes shall weigh 
To quench the soul's celestial ray; 
Then, then despair will gather round 
To whelm its hopes in gloom profound; 
Plead not 'tis by thy subject's will — 
Thou art no less a robber still, 
For ages of oppressive rule 
Has moulded each a willing tool; 
Thy ruffian power but bars the way 
To Liberty's most righteous sway, 
Whose chosen servants should unfold 
The chartered law that freemen hold; 
Dispensing equal justice there, 
The people's rights, the general care. 
Each gilded robber's plea is thus — 
' ' We are the law, the law in us ! 
You should not question to unfold 
The sacred creed that monarchs hold ! 
Ordained to wield the sceptre's might — 
Our sole prerogative and right — 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 15 

'Tis treason if ye seek to find 
Exemption from the withes that bind ! 
You should from all complaints refrain, 
Our patient vassals still remain, 
For lo! from wisdom's vantage ground, 
We deign to shed our light around; 
No chartered rights should subjects know, 
All law must from true sovereigns flow! 
What need have ye of other source 
Than the hereditary course ? ' ' 
Such constitutes the damning creed 
Of tyrants prompted by vile greed; 
Presumptuous despots e'en would close 
The Heavenly solace for man's woes; 
Thus, damn him in his future state, 
To fill the measure of their hate. 
Know minions of base Passion's spleen. 
Your deeds will stand your souls between ! 
Not God ordained that brutal Power 
Should build to bid mankind to cower, 
Or aim to bind with shackles sure, 
His chosen servants good and pure; 
For selfish Power in Greed's embrace 
Demoralizes all such race. 
There righteous Justice still must lag, 
And Misery new fetters drag; 

There suffering Want in ceaseless strife 
Still struggles with her sorrows rife, 
Or knows the woes of cankering care 
That bid each stricken wretch despair; 
There trace each sullen peasant's lot. 
See penury in every cot; 



1 6 THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

The boon of life their God hath lent, 
With suffering, sin and hardship blent; 
Thus power abused becomes foul crime. 
Such is the verdict of all time; 
And crime be sure in any cause, 
Finds no excuse in Heaven's laws. 



' ' Fiat Justitia. ' ' 

'' And what have Caesar's deeds and Caesar's fame 
Done for the earth? We feel them in our shame! 
The gory sanction of his glory stains 
The rust which tyrants cherish on our chains, 
Though glory, nature, reason, freedom bid 
Bound millions do what single Brutus did 
Sweep these mere mock-birds of the despot's song 
From the tall bough where they have perched so long- 
Still are we hawked at by such mousing owls. 
And take for falcons those ignoble fowls: 
When but a word from Freedom would dispel 
Those bugbears, as their terrors show too well." 

— Byron. 

PART II. 

Go! view each land by Wrong oppressed. 
Mankind by direful Woe harassed. 
Where millions yet do know the sting. 
That Tyranny's foul rule doth bring! 
E' en England, though her sons can trace 
The lineage of a noble race. 
Blinded by Ambition's greed. 
Ignored sweet Mercy's humane creed. 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 17 

When subject nations strove in vain 
To rule their own fair land again. 
Her history's page is foul with stain, 
Crimes that indelible remain 
To stamp dishonor where her power 
Has served to bid misfortunes lower. 

Most famed 'mongst nations, great indeed! 
No stint of praise would be her meed. 
If justice held a worthy place 
Beside the valor of her race; 
But when her martial strength is used 
To crush, through sordid greed abused. 
The triumphs of her warlike sons. 
The prowess of her famed legions. 
Awakens not in noble minds 
Esteem that patriot valor finds. 

The greatest victory of earth, 
Is when the soul has nobler birth! 
The greatest conqueror is he 
Who strikes that the oppressed go free! 
But Justice seeks her aid in vain, 
Where Britons strike 'tis to enchain! 
Her favored sons with laurels crowned, 
Are tools of dark Oppression found! 
Still midst her honored ones are many, 
The sycophants of Tyranny; 
Eager for power and gain they strive, 
And blind to woe if still they thrive; 
Surrendering manhood's priceless dower. 
The mind's illimitable power — 
Expediency their only plea — 
To the base craft of Tyranny, 



1 8 THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

Whose sordid instincts all his own, 
Thinks spoil of conquests grace a throne. 

Sweet Erin's wrongs oppress the soul 
Of all who strive for Freedom's goal; 
Her race in sorrow weeps for kin, 
For England's rule hath ever been 
A blight to sear that lovely isle. 
Her laws a scheme but to beguile; 
Of their just rights the people shorn, 
Their pleadings answered still with scorn : 
Think not, no retribution waits. 
Or hatred to her rule abates! 
The long dark past in Memory's train 
Brings grief unto each heart again; 
What noble soul can be beguiled 
To honor laws that wrong his child ? 
Their very hills and valleys plead 
Exemption from her robber greed! 
Such rule is but a blot to mar 
And drive her sons to lands afar. 
That isle shall soon be freed from foes. 
Loved Liberty will bring repose; 
Then shall her sons the laws dispense, 
'Tis thy just will, kind Providence! 

Still other lands bereft and torn. 
Of rights deprived and treasure shorn. 
And untold victims 'neath the sod 
Have felt the terrors of her rod; 
The glowing skies of Ind's warm clime 
Bear witness to her giant crime; 
Too, western lands have known the woe 
That stamped her as fair Freedom's foe. 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 19 

Tyrant! oppression's still thy theme, 
Where e'er thy meteor banners gleam! 
That flag once foremost in the fight 
Shall soon be furled in gloom of blight! 

And thou, fair France! dost still aspire 
To conquest; 'tis thy soul's desire! 
Go, play again that bloody role 
To gain a tyrant's crime-stained dole. 
The senseless show that monarchs bring. 
Or dubious glory poets sing; 
Still seek the praise of soulless Fame! 
Add fickleness to crown thy shame! 
Rejoice to own the gleanings wrung 
From many a weaker race among! 
Consent a groveling slave to be 
To lust, to gold and tyranny! 
Trust some new idol still again — 
But why of Fortune's freaks complain ? 
If still content with each deceit, 
Sweet Liberty must know defeat; 

Freedom will shun thy sunny land. 
Though sky be fair and air be bland. 
Not men, but willing lackeys rest 

Content, toiling on though still unblest, 

Indifferent to Wrong's foul trace. 

If Power but flourish for a space; 

For see the forms your hands uphold 

Used but to gild the spoiler bold ! 

True product of an erring creed. 

The fruit is evil like the seed ; 

Can Principle assert her sway. 

When Virtue views such sad decay ? 



iO "THE S6NG of liberty. 

Where honor's held in dubious fame ? 
Where country's but an empty name ? 
If thou wouldst win the patriot's meed, 
Be noble in each thought and deed! 
Aid Justice to maintain her might! 
Be firm for all that's pure and right! 

All pomp and show that earth affords 
Is naught, tis principle accords 
To man his station here on earth. 
Exalts the low and high of birth; 
Each noble soul will own no lord, 
' Mongst all the Caligulan horde 
Who care not for the hearts that bleed, 
Or the wronged victims of their greed; 
Where all that's sacred, good, or blest. 
Lies prostrate at Dishonor's hest. 

O France, throw off Oppression's thrall! 
Oh, heed the voice of Freedom's call! 
Let Liberty's inspiring breath 
Awake thee from the sleep of death! 
What! has thy native mother Earth, 
Garnered all her sons of worth ? 
If not, thy glory still maintain! 
Obliterate each servile stain! 
Arise! disdain each low desire! 
Then shalt thou know true patriot fire: 
Go view the place where sleep the brave! 
Oh, honor yet each hero's grave! 
Let patriots deck with laurels still. 
Each name that wakes the heart's deep thrill! 
Lo! Liberty is hovering near. 
Away with servile doubt and fear! 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 21 

Thou' It have a record yet to be, 
All fraught with joyous victory! 

And see where Russia's mighty power, 
Bids minor despots pale and cower! 
There Nature's icy ramparts stand. 
Sure guardian of that northern land, 
' Gainst bannered hosts equipped for war, 
Should rival despots league once more: 
More dreaded far than warlike host. 
That barrier vanquished Europe's boast. 
But there no danger lurks for thee! 
Sure is thy triumph. Liberty! 

Her steps are silent as the night. 
Each patriot heart doth own her might; 
Soon will each worthy chief and lord 
Join Freedom's cause in firm accord; 
Each wrong will Liberty redress! 
No longer then shall Power oppress, 
Or brutal Despot claim for spoil. 
The clustering fruit of prudent Toil. 

Spain! still thy bigot soul shall feel 
The pain of Retribution's steel! 
Thy record is a blood-stained scroll. 
And though thy sons were brave and bold. 
Thy keels but cleft the ocean wave, 
To carry terror, ne' er to save : 
Thy days of might wrought woe and pain. 
To many lands beyond the main; 
And eager in pursuit of gold, 
Basely then thy honor sold; 
Thy history's page so steeped in crime 
Doth shadow now thy name and clime; 



22 THE SONG. OF LIBERTY. 

Still blight and sorrow thou wilt know, 
Thy future will be fraught with woe, 
Till Liberty's inspiring strain. 
Shall rouse thy sons to hope again. 

'Twere vain the task of bard or sage. 
To trace the deeds that soil each page, 
Where central Europe leads the way. 
To quench the soul's aspiring ray. 
How can we chronicle in rhyme, 
A record of each nation's crime ? 
Let sad Oblivion cast her veil 
O'er acts that bid our muse to quail! 
There sordid Greed and selfish Pride, 
With tinseled Rank is close allied; 
There Power no thought of mercy knows, 
For subject heart where freedom glows; 
Each throne all hateful still with crime. 
Gives sorrow to its native clime; 
And bold Hypocrisy stalks forth 
All confident of special worth, 
With horrid front and visage vile. 
Deceiving by his native guile; 
Maintaining precepts born of greed, 
Proclaiming then such erring creed. 
The rightful source from whence should flow, 
Man's worldly blessings or his woe; 
Blaspheming the dear Savior's name. 
To fill the measure of his blame; 
Thus bound to hell's all sinful sway, 
Assumes to guide in Heaven's way. 
The wrongs that cluster round each throne, 
Are the fell seed of discord sown; 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 23 

Time, the gaunt harvester, perforce. 
Reaps havoc as he holds his course. 

Who views the Sultan's crumbling state, 
Beholds the fruit of bigot's hate; 
A race of slaves, Oppression's tool. 
Fit subjects for a tyrant's rule; 
Fierce zealots in Delusion's cause, 
Their creed denies fair Nature's laws; 
Its precepts are an idle dream. 
Conceived to serve its prophet's scheme. 

The Turk has ever been a scourge, 
And still new fetters strives to forge; 
As conquerors have no pity known, 
No mercy for war's victims shown; 
And see, at last they bleed in vain, 
Or bleed to gain an empty name! 
Fit retribution they shall know ! 
Like shall they reap as they did sow! 
The whirlwind of awakened wrath, 
Will leave destruction in its path! 
Know, Liberty's avenging hand. 
Will sweep their sway from every land! 

Behold the fount whence life began ! 
Lo! Liberty still weeps for man! 
Where Asia spreads her teeming zone, 
Her watchful care is all unknown ; 
What sorrows whelm her barbarous hordes! 
What wrongs entailed from tyrant lords! 
Degraded manhood's hapless lot, 
To Nature's plan an obvious blot; 
Base minions to uphold the power 
That bids them as its vassals cower; 



24 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

Their cringing souls to bondage born, 
Will cause their children long to mourn. 

Thus ages foul with deeds of crime, 
Have cursed the past of every clime; 
In vain, 'midst universal blight, 
Did righteous Justice plead for right; 
In vain, did meek-eyed Patience bide, 
For ebb of Tyranny's dark tide, 
In vain, did Sorrow's starting tear, 
Seek to avert Oppression near; 
For though like fitful meteor's gleam, 
At intervals with transient beam, 
Fair Freedom cast a hopeful ray, 
Athwart a struggling nation's way, 
Still banded tyrants quenched the light. 
To gloom the race with darker night. 
Until each heart was sad with dread, 
Despondent when sweet Hope had fled; 
The soul of man was tempest-tossed. 
His dreams of bliss were ever crossed. 



' ' Sola Nobilitas Virtus. ' ' 

The soul concerned for others' weal. 
Stamped with the worth of Honor's seal. 
Glows with sympathetic fires. 
To aid where trodden man aspires: 
True to the cause, like Nature's pole 
Firm fixed though adverse storms may roll, 
Bright as the star that lights its zone, 
He shines by virtues all his own; 



THE SONG OB LIBERTY. 

His chief desire that despots cease 
To vex the world with woe's increase. 
His name will live undimmed by time, 
Live on to grace the poet's rhyme, 
Adorn the page of history: 
Thus ever honored by the free, 
Untarnished by the age's mould, 
Like that fixed star will ne'er grow cold: 
Warm hearts responsive adding fame. 
Do glow to own his revered name. 



PART III. 

Shall despots ever quench the ray. 
That lights the patriot on his way 
To Liberty's bright goal? still blight 
The natural course of every right ? 
Barring the mind's inquiring scope? 
Robbing each heart of faith and hope ? 
Obstructing Reason's tranquil flow? 
Bid man each obvious good forego ? 
Ah, no! sweet Liberty at last 
Has shed her light on all the past, 
Revealing in her righteous wrath. 
What snares surround Oppression's path! 
Her hallowed precepts point the way. 
That leads mankind to brighter day. 
And prompt the patriot to endure, 
Contending for her cause so pure. 
For Liberty, lo! millions pine! 
They bow in worship at her shrine! 



25 



26 THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

Bright Inspiration to adorn! 
Surely of earth thou wast not born, 
But sent by the Almighty's hand, 
His messenger to every land! 
Through all the long, dark ages past, 
Tyrants have thought to chain thee fast! 
Oft thou hast pined in dungeon's gloom, 
Oppression hoped to fix thy doom; 
But Liberty thou sacred spell, 
Like seed in some dark pent-up cell, 
'Midst boding darkness long immured, 
Long in its prison-house secured. 
The lightnings rend the rock in twain, 
When lo! it springs to life again! 
So shall the might of righteous wrath. 
Hurl each obstruction from thy path! 
Vain the vile thought and still shall be. 
To crush man's innate love for thee! 
E'en 'midst the gloom of pending woe, 
Thy name awakes the heart's warm glow! 

Allegiance to that sublime birth, 
Still nesties in each heart of worth; 
She binds in union firm and strong, 
Each sorrowing heart oppressed by wrong. 

Yet but awhile shall nations groan. 
Endure to build each tyrant's throne; 
For soon shall Liberty redress 
Each wrong, each giant fraud suppress; 
Then, then will equal laws prevail; 
No longer then shall Greed entail 
His myriad woes, where she build sure 
Upon just principles that will endure. 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

Inspired to feel her sacred flame, 
Rejoicing in their country's fame, 
Her votaries will joy to bleed. 
For country, kindred and for creed; 
Scorning the willing menial's place. 
Disdain to own such coward race. 
Will eager seek the conflict's brunt. 
To curb Oppression's haughty front. 
What matter if bold tyrant foes 
Should their united strength oppose ? 
Lo! guided by Almighty power. 
Unfailing trust where dangers lower, 
Pledged in words of living light 
All hopeful to the soul's new sight, 
Loved Liberty shall triumph still, 
And all her sacred pledges fill! 
Enrolled beneath her banner's sheen, 
Undaunted in their martial mien. 
Her answering hosts in glad array, 
Will sweep oppressive Power away! 
There Valor will his worth bestow, 
Arm, too, to meet the tyrant foe; 
All champions of Honor's laws, 
Defending Heaven's sacred cause; 
And when in battle for the right. 
Her votaries triumph in the fight. 
True bonds of love cementing there. 
Will lighten all the general care; 
Emancipate each soul of worth. 
Bestow content on every hearth. 
Then Penury's sad heart will know. 
What blessings from her hand doth flow, 



27 



28 THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

And join to swell the joyous strain, 
Of Liberty's inspired refrain. 

Not fruidess man's enduring past, 
For see! fair promise blooms at last, 
Where Liberty 'midst seeming dearth, 
Has blessings showered on many a hearth! 
Nor vain the struggles of her brave; 
Hope twines a garland o'er each grave! 

Enshrined amongst that hero host. 
One name inspires the patriot most — 
Lo! Liberty's time-honored son, 
Columbia's revered Washington! 
His form's brief dust his land reclaimed, 
But all his noble deeds remained, 
A legacy to those of earth, 
Who know to honor all such worth: 
He needs no crypt of storied fane. 
No tablet's front, no hireling strain, 
Nor graven monumental stone, 
His memory will endure alone! 

He left a land by Freedom blest. 
Secure from Tyranny's unrest; 
A land that knows no coward race, 
A blood-stained conqueror's power to grace; 
No partial laws from king or lord. 
To brand its sons a menial horde: 
That race still burns with all the fire 
Inherited from patriot sire. 
There Freedom sings a glad refrain. 
All purified from passion's st ain. 
For the sole hate a freeman knows, 
Doth centre on his country's foes. 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

There benign Liberty hath lent 
Her watchful care with prudence blent, 
Unhampered bears her equal way, 
With honored front in righteous sway; 
'Twas thus the God of all ordained. 
When first her mission was proclaimed! 

Thus Liberty like a pure stream, 
'Midst where the swarming race doth teem. 
Flowing from its fountain source, 
Ever onward in its course. 
Till gently its broad bosom heaves, 
'Midst lands made rich with bounteous sheaves; 
And freighted on its mighty tide 
The argosies of fortune ride; 
Dispelling woes where deserts lie 
To wring the way-worn traveler's sigh. 
With ever sure augmenting flow, 
Awakes the soul's responsive glow. 

'Tis Liberty's enlightening theme 
That wakes the soul's aspiring beam; 
The glowing impulse of her creed, 
Still onward through the world shall speed; 
And when her ever-conquering might, 
At last has triumphed for the right. 
The gladsome chorus of her song 
Will echo all the vales along; 
Each slave, all freed, will own her power. 
No longer then shall peasants cower, 
Or humble Virtue know the doom 
That bound her to Despair's dread gloom: 
Then tyrant's power no more can bind 
In thraldom man's inquiring mind; 



29 



30 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 

His soul enfranchised, freed and grand, 
Will break the chains that bind his land. 
Then Liberty, whose ways are peace, 
Will all her votaries' joys increase, 
If joined to Wisdom's honored train, 
So freed from Superstition's chain; 
Then will the eye new lustre show. 
The light of new-found manhood glow; 
And conscious honor add new grace, 
New dignity to all such race; 
Then will her worthy sons be blest, 
Then sweet content will soothe each breast: 
Thus learn to shun Ambition's toils 
That all our peace and pleasure foils; 
Nor seek to shine with garish beam 
That 'lures man with its pleasing gleam. 

Each generous impulse of the mind 
That flows from Liberty, will bind 
Each grateful heart in unison 
With joys of love's diapason; 
The love of virtue, kindred, friends, 
The love that with our being blends, 
The love that's bom of pure desires, 
The love that noble deeds Inspires; 
Disdaining every sinful way 
That glooms the close of life's brief day, 
Each soul will own the kindred tie, 
Where man in Virtue's ways doth vie. 

Where Liberty pervades the land, 
And sheds her light on every hand, 
There Justice rules in righteous sway, 
Whilst Industry pursues her way; 



THE SONG OF LIBER TV. 

And there each vale and vine-clad hill, 
Each lake's broad wave or mountain rill, 
Will added beauties still disclose, 
To soul where noble thoughts repose. 
If man fulfils each hallowed test, 
Dame Nature bares her bounteous breast. 
And smiling Plenty's generous hand 
Will join with Peace to bless the land. 

Thus Liberty's impartial sway, 
Exempt from wrong and vain display, 
All freed from dark Oppression's blight, 
Illumes the path of Truth and Right; 
Her righteous hand with fostering care. 
Dispenses blessings everywhere. 
Then who would barter all away, 
Her great momentous cause gainsay, 
Bid all the kindred virtues part, 
And seal the fountains of the heart, 
For power to trample on the weak, 
To wring the pittance of the meek ? 
Oh, better far to purge the soul, 
From all its sordid lust for gold ! 
Or, if the power to rule be thine. 
And talent give thee scope to shine — 
Not as a portent feared and vast, 
Athwart the people's heaven cast — 
But like the pillar God displayed, 
When Israel's 'wildered host delayed: 
Oh! be a guide what e'er thy place, 
A beacon light to all the race; 
To aid the weak to win the goal. 
In safety from the storms that roll. 



31 



32 



THE SONG OF LIBERTY. 



When adverse fortune lowers dark, 
To quench the soul's aspiring spark! 
Like Moses aim to guide thy race! 
Seek light from God the way to trace, 
Where fortune's tide, like Jordan's wave, 
Shall flow a happier shore to lave! 
Or, if a soul of modest worth. 
Accord with place of humble birth. 
Integrity can win regard 
That from the boastful great is barred. 
Far better be unknown to fame 
Than win a despot's hateful name; 
Thy lot with lowly shepherds cast, 
Than as a mighty conqueror blast 
The lives his baleful course doth strew, 
With miseries rife in passing through; 
Where imprecations round him burst. 
When the oppressed for vengeance thirst; 
Who fills at last a tyrant's grave, 
Contemned, unhonored by the brave. 

Except some general good to speed, 
Beyond consistent present need. 
What profit all the paltry gain 
That centres 'round Ambition's aim? 
Soon life's brief span will speed away. 
Then Earth will claim her native clay: 
The soul enfranchised from unrest. 
Will seek the home where all are blest; 
Then only worth will gain at last. 
The joys that crown a righteous past. 



AHASUERUS. 

" If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? " John 21: 22. 

HERE will I pause awhile where this clear fount doth flow, 
To calm my anguished soul thatknoweth much of woe 
Since that dread time that sped me on my restless way — 
That time so long ago, yet might be yesterday, 
So vividly is every act and word impressed 
Upon my mind, and stirs unceasingly my breast. 
That I now know He was the Holy One is sure; 
My soul doth tell me He was innocent and pure; 
And I reviled and taunted in His agony; 
Yea! did strike and add unto His misery; 
Hell! what deep remorse pursues me ceaselessly! 
And the rebuke He uttered uncomplainingly! 
Oh, God of Abraham, 'twas most in zeal for Thee! 
Mistaken, I well know it now, that in degree 
Did rouse my ire, yet was my heart perverse and hard, 
That could unfeeling then all pity thus discard 
For bitter woe, as under such indignity. 
Those calm and speaking eyes did plead for sympathy; 
That look! that showed so much of utter anguish, too — 
Oh, could I but forget, it still doth pierce me through! 
'Tis seared into my brain, and ever haunts my rest; 
Dread curse! forever doomed to wander on unblest. 
What long, long years of lingering time have fled in vain ! 
Dark thoughts almost unseat my mind and fill with pain! 



34 AHASUERUS. 

But when He comes again, then will my spirit plead; 
Till then I walk accurst, forsaken for that deed! 
The import of its dreadfulness is all my own, 
I only of the seed of Abraham have known 
And felt the utter isolation it involves — 
Bringing hopelessness unto my best resolves. 

But yesterday as slowly on I dragged my course. 
Weighted with years of woe, of pain and deep remorse, 
Near where a village lay embowered in vernal green — 
'Twas a sweet sight! I paused and gazed upon the scene, 
And for a moment I forgot the burden's weight — 
Unknown, I hoped to 'scape the universal hate, 
When, drawing near, I met, bent with descrepitude 
An aged dame, a beggar who for alms then sued. 
I gave of my light store, when eying me again. 
She threw the coin away with horror and disdain; 
With muttered spells and curses hobbled swift away: 
Oh, father Abraham, how lone I felt that day! 
And then my thoughts did wander back to the long past, 
When in Jerusalem my fortunes had been cast. 
To dwell on the Hesterian Way that led direct 
To that dread field Golgoth, the high court did select 
To be the spot to consummate that tragedy. 
Before that morn no evil thought did haunt my memory; 
My happy home did view the mighty Temple walls, 
A lovely wife and prattling babes then graced my halls; 
Increasing riches unto all my house did flow, 
And many gathered there in smiling friendship's glow. 
As the dim memory of some vague dream all fled, 
Kind friends, loved wife and babes long mingle with the dead: 
The great Temple now is crumbled unto dust; 
Jerusalem doth show the age's mould and rust; 



AHASUERUS. 



35 



How fallen is the pride of all her scattered sons! 
Forgotten or contemned are all her mighty ones. 

Would my old weary bones were in that land at rest 
And mingling with the sacred dust of kindred blest; 
Kindred, Oh, Holy God! that name doth move my soul! 
Mere shadows of the past, as on the ages roll: 
No tie connects me with the living more, all lone 
And desolate, as on the bleak years move, I moan. 

Here will I sit, too, talk unto myself and rail, 
For when the gloom of that dread curse doth most prevail, 
I speak aloud to ease my spirit of unrest. 
To calm my troubled soul by anguish long oppressed. 
Yes! there are many things that others cannot know. 
That centuries of observation did bestow; 
For the brief thread of mortal life is cut away, 
In fact, men die before their life can well display 
The fruit of education; then their children must 
Take up the tangled web, or view it with distrust; 
But I have watched the generations as they past. 
Have seen them glide into the silent tomb at last. 
And all the fine-spun theories of life-long toil. 
Die fruitless of all good, or live to breed turmoil: 
And now the spell is on I'll speak what I do think, 
For my long pilgrimage hath made the truth distinct. 

The holy laws of Moses surely will endure, 
But vanity that time, I hold to be most sure. 
Had crept into the souls of all the high priesthood — 
So subtle is that vice, by all misunderstood. 
Hypocrisy and pride had made their souls corrupt. 
Thus were the sweet emotions of the heart dried up; 
Yes, there was vital need of high Almighty aid. 
To purify again the people he had made. 



36 AHASUERUS. 

Oh, Israel! I lament thy tribes are scattered now, 

That His displeasure still doth sit upon thy brow; 

Hadst thou with contrite heart received the precious word. 

With due humility the Holy One had heard, 

And of the precious seed had straightway gone to sow. 

The harvest of His love to Israel yet would flow; 

Yes! still thou'dstbe the chosen people of His care, 

Then I would not have known the horrors of despair. 

But hark! I hear the clattering tongues of children near; 
I will away in haste before they do appear. 
For I do dread their mischief-loving nature much; 
'Twas but a month ago in Paris I met such. 
And they did call me "Jew," whilst mocking every act of 

mine; 
With garbage and vile filth did soil my gabardine; 
Oh, it did rouse the passions of my youth again! 
Yea, the hot blood did bum in every vein ! 
And I did raise my hand to strike a simple youth — 
A very vagabond, right chubby, but uncouth; 
And then. Oh, God! methought I saw that face once 

more, 
The very eyes that mildly had rebuked before! 
My guilty hand did drop all helpless to my side, 
And I grew very faint, nor heard who did deride. 
Henceforth the vicious ill-trained rabble I'll avoid, 
That of all due respect for age is thus devoid. 
It still doth fret me much, yea! they did pull my beard. 
And said, " Behold! the wandering Jewish dog' s appeared ! " 
So I will steal away to yon lone mountain's hight. 
There 'midst the quiet beauty of approaching night, 
Seek in prayer to tranquilize my troubled heart, 
In deepest thought commune, from all but God apart. 



AHASUERUS. 37 

Canto ii. 

Since when I have sojourned upon this mountain's brow, 

Sweet, soothing peace pervades to calm my spirit now, 

And I will talk aloud in a more tranquil strain, 

Of thoughts that crowd when I recall the past again; 

I never did say half the witless things men claim 

And harping poets sing; God knows I seek not fame! 

I rather would assume the form of His most humble child; 

Have I not lived to see how oft men are beguiled, 

By high aspiring thoughts are surely led astray ? 

Who ventures far will modest prudence oft betray. 

How blessed are the innocent and pure of heart! 

How wholly wretched those transgressors who depart 

From Virtue's smiling paths! for happiness alone 

Can dwell in breast that purity and love doth own: 

Of every form of sin I have observed the path — 

Wisdom alone can guide from its destroying wrath. 

Had I been wise in youth I would have checked the fire 

Of my hot zeal for creed, that waked my slumbering ire; 

I surely would have paused and weighed His sayings well, 

And pondered long on precepts He did preaching tell; 

I know His love alone can soften the hard heart. 

And love to fellow-man is still the nobler part. 

Since I have tarried on this mountain's lofty top, 
A better mood is on, and brighter thoughts do prop 
My shrivelled form that bows before the wrath of years 
Of weary waiting until He again appears. 
Here I did find this hut where anchorite did dwell. 
For the rude cross and altar still doth grace the cell. 

Is it humility to dwell apart in gloom. 
To hide each gem of thought in such lone mountain tomb ? 



38 AHASUERUS. 

No; I have watched his creed take root and grow apace, 
Since first it did convert each stubborn heathen race; 
Then did its simple purity give vital strength, 
But now it has in part become corrupt at length; 
And forms grow tedious with their length of idle show; 
There's too much chaff with the few seed they sow. 
If His sweet faith was preached in simple purity, 
All freed from cant and pompous show of vanity, 
How would enfranchised man quaff at its crystal stream ! 
A surer light upon each troubled soul would beam ! 
All show doth tend to quench its bright celestial spark; 
E'en His all-searching word, obscured, made dark 
Becomes, when ornament doth clog perfection's truth; 
Sublimity is only marred by gauds uncouth. 

But hold! there doth approach a man bent with great age: 
No doubt it is the hermit of this cell. His sage 
And venerable front doth much command respect; 
He knows me not — I'll ascertain his creed or sect. 
Hail, Father! of this lonely cell as I would guess? 
God's love encompass thee, protecting from distress! 
Thou say est, "I, too, am old " — yea sure, 'tis truly so! 
Not old enough though, as to me the slow years dragging 

go- 
I wait the advent of our Lord and Savior now; 

Such is my aim and purpose all I do avow. 

Old man! by thy changed look, pale brow, and trembling 

hand, 

I know thou dost suspect I'm he who roams the land: 

If thy hard heart is wholly closed to sympathy, 

I'll now away, nor claim thy hospitality. 

Thus is it often found, the would-be pious one 

Lacks kindly charity, yet thinks the life to come 



AHASUERUS. 



39 



Is surely won. How selfish is perverted zeal! 
It has no eye to see distress, no heart to feel. 

I do remember well — 'twas in the land of Spain — 
In a vast solitude I'd wandered long in vain; 
The forest shadows had obscured the path I chose; 
There as I plodded all amiss a storm arose, 
And I did see around the flash of lightnings' play. 
And heard fierce howls resound of prowling beasts of prey; 
Then was my shrinking spirit shrouded with great fear, 
The thunders were so loud, the time and place so drear. 
Soon I did come unto a house in that wild place. 
There saw a man all poorly clad with pleasing face: 
He bade me welcome with an earnest Christian grace, 
That many gentry lack, though born of tided race. 
I saw he knew me, too, for rumor there was rife. 
To herald my approach and stir up bigot strife; 
And so I told the story of my tragic fate, 
The wrongs I'd suffered from men's over-zealous hate; 
His gentle dame with eyes suffused with many tears, 
Did spread the humble board, too, bade me rest from fears 
Of harm in that secluded spot. I've seldom seen 
Dear souls so filled with Christian love, minds so serene; 
They were of shepherd race that worshipped God in truth 
Taught by their earnest fathers thus from early youth. 

Yea! that time is much impressed upon my mind, 
And we did part next day with many farewells kind; 
Thus are the simple humble ever nearest God! 
Who professeth much, 'tis cloak to cover fraud. 

Since that sweet time my burden has been lighter, too, 
Whilst deep humility pervades my bosom through; 
It much hath curbed the spirit of my early youth, 
Its stubborn ignorance that then rejected truth: 



40 



AHASUERUS. 



Like music's sweetest strains it stole upon my heart, 
It bade the bigotry of early days depart. 

But of the sequel of that night's adventure there, 
It still doth stir my soul's regrets beyond compare. 
I scarce had reached that forest' s outmost verge, 
To where the Guadalquivir its rapid course doth urge, 
When I was sudden seized, by priestly minions bound, 
Dragged to a lonely tower that o'er the valley frowned: 
There the inquisitors in secret conclave, charged 
Me with the deadly sin of sorcery surcharged; 
They said I was a heretic prowling in disguise. 
To lead astray the souls of the unwary and unwise. 
They urged me to confess, while torture by the rack 
Did wrench my aged limbs till every joint did crack; 
With hard unfeeling hearts they sternly questioned me, 
Whilst others there averred I practiced sorcery. 
It was useless to refute the bigots who held sway; 
They sentenced me to burn upon that solemn day — 
Auto-da-f6. But what did cause me anguish most, 
Was to behold in chains, and bleeding there my host 
Of previous night; too, his kind spouse securely bound: 
Then sorrow swayed my soul as I did gaze around 
On the poor victims of base craft and bigotry; 
I did consider, thinking how such wrongs could be; 
So did exclaim, with execrations cursed their creed. 
Born not of Christ such deeds, but sordid worldly greed. 
Oh, God! that hardened men should dare malign Thee so. 
In Thy dear name do acts that none but fiends should 
know. 



AHASUERUS. 41 

CANTO III. 

My sparse and hoary locks from horror stood on end, 
That time, when on the Quemadero shrieks did rend 
The midday air of ValladoHd's sunny sky: 
Sometimes they shrilly rose, then on the ear would die, 
As the fierce flames roared on and columned smoke uprose, 
When some poor wretch did sink to merciful repose 
Of death; then would the mad mob shout in savage glee. 
Whilst priests did much exhort and chant where all could 

see, 
Till twenty victims had there writhing sunk to rest: 
Then my sad soul grew weak, by terror was oppressed. 
For the rank odors of that burning human flesh, 
Still held amidst the fire by massy iron leash. 
Did shock each mortal sense, whilst my gloomed spirit 

shrunk. 
Meanwhile that populace with fiend-like joy seemed drunk. 

Next where the place I stood, bound fast to a strong stake, 
That worthy shepherd and his gentle wife did make 
A woeful picture to my mind, as they did light 
Their piles right close unto my blood-shot eyes' seared sight; 
Then I did weep as any simple child might weep, 
When round those innocent the searching flames did creep ; 
And then within my inmost soul I prayed to God, 
That his just wrath would scatter vengeance all abroad. 
O'er the fair fields, and cities all of that wide land. 
And war and blight should fall from His Almighty Hand. 

Then the inquisitors did ask, " If it was true. 
That I was he, the one still bade to wander through ? ' ' 
And when I sternly said — "Ahasuerus is my name," 
Their coward hearts did quake, and palsied was each frame: 



42 AHASUERUS. 

Their superstitious souls did deem it sacrilegious ill 

To burn my body there, defeating of Christ's will: 

Then they did loose my iron chains and took me far, 

Unto the verge of that fair land that bigots mar; 

There left me in a desert by the sea, all rocks 

And sand, without a sign around of men or flocks; 

And I was pinched with cold, whilst hunger gnawed me 

much. 
Too, I was lame and sore, just hobbling on a crutch. 
From the dread wrenchings of that fearful rack; 
Yea, I did suffer much, for care I then did lack; 
My vesture torn, too, of my store of coins bereft: 
Then was my spirit tried, for scarce a hope seemed left; 
So I did kneel me in a sheltered, sunny nook. 
In faith did pray the God of Abraham would look 
On my distress to aid, or take me to himself 
I longed for speedy death, yet would not kill myself. 
For since the evening with the pious shepherd there, 
My mind had undergone a change I was aware; 
I felt that man must treasure to the natural end 
His days. The sin of self-destruction doth sure tend 
To add more to the guilty weight that loads one's soul; 
So firmly was resolved my mind should still control 
My body's sufferings — would bear the weighty cross 
Of all my woes, nor would complaining deem it loss; 
For from the many wrongs and trials we endure. 
Wisdom's brightest gems are plucked and make secure. 
Then I did stretch my weary form upon the sand. 
Near where the murmuring waves did gird the land, 
And I did sleep — how long I know not now — till waked 
As from a 'wildering trance — whilst, too, from cold I 

quaked — 



AHASUERUS. 43 

On being gently shook and hearing women speak, 
Startled, I essayed to stand but was too weak : 
I wondered much, for they did speak the Moorish tongue; 
I, too, could speak it well, for wandering long among 
The tribes of men, each language was alike my own: 
Amazed — I heard — then answered in their native tone. 

Ah me! what fate is man's! Their simple story told, 
I learned, they, too, escaped from horrors manifold. 
Prescribed for heresy, had sought that dismal place — 
The only refuge left for their unhappy race 
To dwell secure, concealed in that huge mountain cave. 
Then one did raise my head, my fevered brow to lave; 
The other did go thence — a sweet young Moorish maid; 
Like swift gazelle she sped to bring more sturdy aid — 
Returning soon, accompanied by friendly men. 
With many greetings kind they gathered 'round me then: 
With care they bore my much emaciated frame — 
For I was faint, and all my limbs were stiff and lame — 
In safety up the mountain steep unto their home, 
A subteraneous cleft to all but them unknown. 
There they did kindly care for my enfeebled state; 
And though I tarried long, their love did not abate; 
But when my strength and health had somewhat been 

regained. 
From longer stay for prudent reasons I refrained; 
For spies of that tribunal prowled through all the land. 
In solitude or town, they lurked on every hand; 
So I departed from the inmates of those cells. 
E'en yet my grateful heart with deep emotion swells. 
When I do think of all their kindness unto me. 
Thus mostly with the poor we find humanity; 
The gentieness of mind, the sympathetic heart, 
That wins our true affection that never will depart. 



44 



AHASUERUS. 



Since that dread time I've wandered much in foreign lands, 
But never did receive such wrong from heathen hands: 
All Israel's scattered sons have been maltreated more, 
By those who do in form the Holy Christ adore. 
Than those wild tribes who never have been taught His 

Word, 
The truth of which to them hath still remained unheard. 
If this be true, men's hearts do lack the saving grace 
Of His undying love bestowed upon the race. 

But I feel weary and will pause to rest awhile; 
What a sweet scene around doth on my vision smile! 
It is familiar, too, and now I do recall 
That time again; 'twas fifty years ago this fall 
Since I was here before — these trees have larger grown, 
And this, the very rocky seat I then had known : 
And now I do bethink, a spell most strange, that time 
Was on, and I did put my thoughts in versing rhyme. 
Whilst I do rest as on that time before, I'll see 
If I have still, what then was written down by me: 
Here 'tis — I'll read! It will beguile the time away, 
To thus recall and ponder on the past to-day. 

Oh! often my soul with emotions will swell, 
All controlled by the force of a mystical spell! 
Then I cannot allay that strange form of my fate. 
That pervades with unrest all my system of late. 

In vain do I plead for His aid, the All- Wise! 
Oh, my soul, be thou still, nor rebellious arise! 
' Tis vain, for that impulse defying control. 
Will arise as resistless as storm-clouds that roll. 



AHASUERUS. 45 

'Tis a spell of desire for deep mystical lore, 
To foresee, like the prophet, what fate has in store; 
'Tis a spell that doth chafe at the trammels of earth. 
That frets at the ills that encompass from birth. 

My soul, it would soar as a bird on the wing. 

Like an eagle from earth and its fetters would spring; 

Like the lightnings would flash through the regions of 

night, 
Speeding on all untrammeled to planets more bright. 

Too, it pines for the time when our Savior will come, 
When time is no more and His triumph is rung 
By the Angelic hosts that will throng the bright sky. 
Whilst the sheen of His glory illumes as they fly. 

But that time is not yet that controls my dark fate. 
For my spirit foresees great events to relate; 
Thus still must I on to a far distant shore. 
To observe from events what fell time has in store. 

Then my soul be thou still, yet control my dark mood! 
For still I must wander, on mysteries brood; 
Four centuries more still must roll o'er my head. 
Then my wandering soul to its goal will have'sped. 

For that power to my spirit gives wonderful light, 
Obscured not by time, or the age's sad blight; 
It foresees when this sphere shall have run its bright race. 
Shall be rolled like a scroll and relapse into space. 

And such weird spells do oft possess my spirit still; 
E'en now my soul doth feel a strange, impulsive thrill; 



46 AHASUERUS. 

My vision doth foresee events that draweth nigh; 
This is the subtile growth of true philosophy. 
And I will write all down to see if it come true! 
Great wars with change, will spread all Europe's nations 
through. 

For the soul of true manhood impulsively feels, 
That the cause of fair Freedom for justice appeals. 
At their hands to redress each great wrong of the race. 
That through the past ages of sorrow we trace: 
Thus manhood aroused indignantly spurns 
Each foul wrong that's entailed on the hearts where it 
bums, 

That corrodes to the soul and embitters each life — 
For where laws are so partial they lead unto strife. 
Ye shall answer, ye great, nor yet think to deny. 
The wrongs that doth compass the souls ye decry! 
' Tis rank selfishness, greed and false pride of degree, 
That blinds ye to truth — so refusing to see — 

Hence the dark day of wrath will soon dawn to your 

sight, 
For the wronged will arise in their anger and might. 
To crush the proud fabrics where Tyranny dwells; 
It will burst o'er your heads like the tempest that swells, 
When the Storm -King is roused in the wrath of his might. 
When hurled down the vales from the mountain's dread 

hight. 

What then shall assuage the hot ire of the free. 
Of the hearts that have thirsted for sweet Liberty ? 



AHASUERUS. 



47 



Then the tide that's borne onward that rose from despair, 
Whose threatenings for long still had bid you beware, 
Shall whelm all your greatness in ruin profound; 
Then the darkness of woe will sure gather around. 

Of centuries nineteen the end will bring turmoil; 
A time of care unknown before and weighty toil — 
So causing mighty change to all the people's state: 
After, a time of peace will dawn, supplanting hate; 
Then will an era of prosperity prevail, 
Surpassing all the times before, that did entail 
Great good or evil on the teeming human race; 
And of God's word and true religion this I trace — 
His Word will then be preached in simple purity; 
Together men will dwell in blest tranquility; 
And Peace, sweet Peace will spread her sheltering pinions 

o'er 
The universal race, bestowing joy once more: 
Then will exceeding great prosperity reign 'round; 
Each nation will respond with gratitude profound. 

For lovely Peace, thy pleasing smile 
Is free from all corroding guile! 
Men love along thy paths to stray, 
Made happy by thy gentle way; 
No more by war's alarms harassed; 
No more by Tyranny oppressed; 
There all serene 'neath thy glad sky. 
Rejoice to view the landscape nigh 
Where smiles the toiler's cheerful home, 
Where Plenty bids him cease to roam. 



48 AHASUERUS. 

Before that dark and dangerous time that's near at hand, 
I will betake me to that distant Western land 
Whose mighty people I have watched as they did rise, 
And grow, and prosper, much to the old world's surprise; 
But once in all my time I passed through its broad bounds; 
That fearful time 'twas greatly stirred by warlike sounds; 
Still I did note great plenty then did much abound. 
And many pleasant homes smiled all the country 'round. 
There Israel's scattered sons were sheltered by just laws. 
And they did flourish much, for they upheld the cause 
Of Liberty in that great war that stirred the State, 
And gave stability to righteous Freedom's date. 

So it will come, what I do now foresee is sure; 
Its liberal laws will many like myself allure, 
As ti'oubles here augment each day from this time on, 
Till after still another century doth dawn; 
For Abraham in spirit did appear to me, 
And urged that I the children of his love should see. 
To earnestly apprise, that it is so ordained. 
The tribes shall gather there by prophecy constrained. 
And freely aid in just proportion to his store. 
To build and dedicate a temple as before. 
Each grateful heart will prompt it be a work of love — 
An oft'ering freely given unto our God above. 



CANTO IV. 

At last in safety I have crossed the mighty sea! 
Here for a time will dwell where men are much more free 
Than in those long-time oligarchies now corrupt. 
With all that do the ties of social life disrupt: 



AHASUERUS. 



49 



Those many States now grown unsound on every hand, 
Through evils that have spread through all the land, 
From whence disquiet now and war's dread, blighting 

scourge 
Will in its train new fetters for the many forge; 
So has it been through all the dark, dread past, since He 
In sorrow made me wander still o'er land and sea: 
It is the overweening selfish greed of men; 
Their vanity and thirst for gain and power prompt them. 

Since I have come to this new growing land so fair, 
Where great prosperity doth flourish everywhere, 
And marked the mingling current of the races well, 
The impress of my observations here will tell. 
Whilst I do sit on this high monument, to view 
The landscape round where Liberty took root and grew 
In measure, from the inspiration of her son — 
Of whom 'tis said, he surely was a chosen one, 
Now honored most amongst earth's many worthy great. 
To whom this very monument is dedicate. 
Washington! how I have longed to tread the shore. 
And view the land where sleeps thy sacred dust, once 
more! 

When our great leader Moses led his children far, 
From out the land that blighting tyranny did mar. 
Who but the God of Abraham could thus inspire, 
To fill his lofty soul with pure, enduring fire ? 
He was the chosen, honored instrument to fill 
And carry out the purpose of the Lord, until 
His people viewed the promised land in beauty spread, 
And then the servant rested with His holy dead: 
So was this man in life a Moses to his race, 
Inspired through the Almighty's never-failing grace. 



50 



AHASUERUS. 



I have observed the many forms of government, 
Of nations of the past, that in their time have lent 
For a brief span, in seeming, great prosperity 
Unto the race, but ever lacked stability 
To endure, because dissensions soon ensued 
To whelm eventually, in vicissitude. 
Or crumble wholly 'neath the weight of time's sure test: 
It seems men here on earth, are never to be blest 
With sure continuous rule, at least they have not been; 
And I may well believe what I have surely seen. 

When I was young and dwelt in calm security. 
Then all did seem, yea, truly! all seemed sure to me; 
Israel then appeared a mighty race and sound — 
I little thought that many dangers lurked around — 
And mighty Rome then stood, proud mistress of the 

world; 
Yet soon, too, I did see her power to ruin hurled. 

Twice have I lingering paused within the bounds of 
Rome, 
Ravennah, and great Constantine's imperial home; 
'Tis but two years ago I stood in Rome and viewed 
Her massy ruins round, and there did trace where stood. 
When I was there before, those lofty marble piles 
Of her patrician sons, then, ranked in stately files: 
That time did mark an era — 'tis on my mind impressed. 
For fierce disputes waxed hot — 'twas time of much unrest; 
'Twas when firm Telemachus in the bloody pit 
Of the dread circus leaped, by inspiration, fit 
And fearless made, to end those brutal shows at length; 
'Twas holy zeal imparted more than mortal strength 
To brave the savage throng that stoned him to the death; 
That one high deed did much impress the Christian faith. 



AHASUERUS. 



51 



What signified their grandeur and magnificence ? 
Alas! they soon did lack the skill of sure defence; 
Their wealth by conquest won and toil of many slaves, 
Did sap their manhood much; they proved but sorry knaves 
When war's dread scourge invaded all the empire's bounds: 
The nation then lay bleeding at a thousand wounds, 
Too helpless weak from luxury's enfeebling cause — 
Sure consequence of outraged nature's changeless laws. 

The circumstances differ much in this broad land; 
No spoils of conquest breeding vice on every hand, 
Here spread contagion round of vain alluring show 
That quenches all the light of honor's righteous glow: 
But this is sure — the natural traits of men change not, 
And time alone can tell the future of their lot: 
Pride, vanity and sordid greed do much prevail. 
That many festering ills on mortals do entail 
Most grievous consequences; and, too, I see 
A brainless few who, fortunate in great degree. 
From favorable circumstances of the laws 
Of a just government or its sure fostering cause. 
Successful grown, do now ignore its solid worth, 
Disdaining every righteous principle from dearth 
Of honor, and do wound the parent of their birth. 
Contemning wholly joys of modest virtue's hearth. 
So feebly ape the tinseled forms of monarchy. 
Polluted by the taint of every infamy. 

'Tis certain, some in every land would barter all 
The clustering fruits of Freedom, nor regret the fall 
Of righteous justice, to advance their own base views 
Of visionary good that lure in brilliant hues: 
How petty are the great who with the vain do dwell! 
Oft have I seen such sordid souls and marked them well, 



52 



AHASUERUS. 



Who in the end stirred strife, thus marred a nation's weal; 
Such for their country's welfare have no soul to feel. 

Yes! here I see a strong desire for foolish show; 
'Tis pampered pride that causeth it to root and grow; 
Also lack of principle and general common-sense, 
Arrogating much from intellect most dense. 

How often have I seen ambitious ones of earth build high 
Upon the sands of pride, then all in ruin lie! 
But still this phase of frail humanity's dull thought. 
Despite the lessons that the long, dark past has taught. 
Lives on and on, to wrong the many of reward, 
And grieve the world with strife, as struggling on toward 
A longed-for higher destiny. In vain man hopes 
For righteous justice to prevail; in vain he copes 
With sordidness that still would grasp the glittering whole — 
E'en pauses not at crime — thus steeps in guilt his soul. 

O Pride! thy paltry train has dimmed the brightness cast 
By Virtue over all the centuries of the past; 
And the dread pall of thy corroding blight. 
Shrouds ruined nations in oblivion's hopeless night! 

In this new, virgin land where first true freedom grew. 
As I did say, I do perceive that a vain few 
Do thirst for all the rotten forms that rank of old 
Assumed and covered in the glittering garb of gold; 
And pride that panders to their selfishness grows hard 
By constant practice, till the faculties are marred. 
Far worse than vulgar show or pampered family-pride. 
Is base injustice, fostered still and spreading wide: 
I bend my time-blanched brow considering of that name 
That consecrates this pile to realistic fame; 
How his great soul would frown at the indignity 
Now centered in those acts of gross malignity, 



AHASUERUS. 



53 



That do confront fair Freedom's cause — could he but 

rise — 
That threaten principles his patriot heart did prize! 

Looking south towards that long-time-troubled land 
That stretches fair and beautiful on every hand — 
But yet, alas ! portentous blight still glooms it, too — 
The curst result of slavery pervading it all through; 
There rank injustice permeates the self-called higher race. 
Who arrogate sole right to rule in every place; 
Thus do deprive the freedmen of every natural right, 
Denying e'en the gospel's soul-illuming light; 
Consigns, through selfish greed, to servitude's base toil. 
That long-time-suffering race, though native to the soil: 
Their country still withholds the aegis of its laws — 
Their sheltering care — thus falsifying Freedom's cause. 

When men are greatly warped through venal thirst for 
gain, 
At last, they scarce seem conscious of the tainting stain 
That wholly doth adhere to both the mind and soul — 
Thus dearth of principle results from lust for gold: 
Slothfulness, injustice, cruelty and pride, 
Do surely follow where base sordidness doth bide; 
Else, why would those men of long-time-slavery's crew. 
Their souls in the great sin of obvious wrong imbrue. 
Ignore the righteousness of equity's true cause. 
Still seek perversely to construe their country's laws, 
Barter the grand inheritance their fathers won. 
Besmirch the hard-won fame of Freedom's chosen son, 
Basely trample on the victims of their greed. 
Too, coward-like, ignore who patiently do plead 
But for the just protection their countrymen deny ? 
These are the nation's wards your baseness doth decry! 



54 AHASUERUS. 

Contemned, reviled, deprived of every lawful right, 
Denied the equal chance of wisdom's guiding light, 
Disfranchised of the ballot's sure protecting care, 
And ruffian-rage and brute-oppression everywhere! 
Damned for the darker hue his God gave to his skin, 
But He doth know the soul is just as white within! 

How mean of soul and wrong the bitter hate 
That vilifies the weak ! Devoid of every trait 
Of noble manhood, is the vain, assuming heart 
That lacks in sympathy with the poor toiler's part! 

But out of this unrest and crude display of greed, 
A brighter day will dawn; intelligence will feel the need 
Of perfect unity of interests for all; 
No longer then shall combined capital enthrall. 
Or pride that prompts the avarice of the great. 
Invidious, sap the sure foundations of the State: 
Integrity and principles of sterling worth. 
From true intelligence will then have sublime birth; 
Then worth, not wealth or birth, will win men's true regard, 
And all the garish forms of pride that doth retard . 
The State in its high mission of more perfect life. 
Will surely fall to just contempt, though causing strife. 

This people hath a holy mission to perform; 
And time will all their present crudities reform; 
The principles of liberty are planted sure, 
And being firmly rooted, surely will endure. 

But I must on to where the mighty Amazon doth roll, 
Thus, will complete the circle of the mystic scroll; 
There spread abroad the truths the future will unvail, 
That principles of liberty may still prevail; 
Thus will improve the time I yet must wander through, 
So now will hasten on and bid these scenes adieu. 



AHASUERUS. 55 

Doomed ever thus to wander, where 

The world has naught but gloom, 
Thus sorrowing years of woe and care, 

Blight Hope's alluring bloom. 

What though the smiles of Nature woo, 

Can she assuage the pain, 
That every scene when passing through, 

Recalls to mind again ? 

Like some vague planet's unfixed course, 

Through unknown paths to roam, 
Forever on with meteor force. 

Till God shall call it home- 
So doth my resdess spirit speed, 

Compelled by unseen force: 
Oh, that my soul from guilt was freed. 

Purged from its deep remorse! 

My God! roll back the clouds that lower. 

Let sure repentance weigh. 
To soothe this breast one single hour 

And ease the wanderer's way! 

The fountains of my heart seem dry. 

Emotions seldom move. 
Or when they do, I fain must sigh, 

To leave some scene I love! 

Pride, or power, or friendship's smiles. 

Delude but for a day; 
All earthly things are subtle wiles. 

To win our souls away. 



56 AHASUERUS. 

Men seek the bubble of renown — 

Gain but a weight of care; 
Though fickle Fortune smile or frown, 

What good is centered there ? 

Then hasten on, ye years of pain! 

Let ages roll away! 
Till He in triumph comes again 

' Midst glory of that day, 

When hosts angelic shall attend 

' Midst sweet celestial strains. 
When Heaven's bright-visioned vistas blend, 

Where the Jehovah reigns! 

My contrite heart, O God! I give, 

In humbleness, to Thee! 
To Thee, that my tried soul may live, 

From sin and sorrow free! 

Then, then, oh, call the wanderer home! 

Oh, guide as Thou know est best! 
If still in weariness to roam. 

But let my soul find rest. 

Emotions of great weariness pursue me still! 
And sadness at such times doth overpower my will 
When I consider how that time of rest is far. 
And I must wander on, though blight of sorrow mar 
Each lovely morn that dawns upon my joyless way; 
But I will come again when fate doth prompt the day. 



NATIONAL AND PATRIOTIC POEMS. 57 



THE GRANGERS' ALLIANCE. 



THE RISING OF 1861. 

"y^">OLUMBIA! mother of a mighty race, 
V_^ All lovely in thy youthful grace! 

^ -^ * * i!< * * * 

Safe thou dwellest with thy sons! 
They do not know how loved thou art, 
How many a fond and fearless heart, 

Would rise to throw 
Its life between thee and the foe." 

— Bryant. 



' Twas in a vale where quiet reigned around, 

Where mountains ranged and reared each lofty head. 
And circled all the valley's sloping bound; 

Too, from their depths a crystal streamlet sped. 
Swift gliding down beneath the sun's full day. 

Then hidden all below where cedars rise, 
To shade its course from e' en a single ray. 

Such the secluded place the grangers prize; 
Their chosen temple was a rock-bound slope, 

Where mighty trees bore proudly their high green. 
Whose tops do fret when with the winds they cope. 

And lightnings play, and rolling clouds are seen. 



58 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

It was a temple all of Nature's hand, 

Simple, but beautiful in Summer's prime. 
When soft green verdure clothes the smiling land, 

For all is lovely, fresh and sweet that time; 
But when the thunders roll and lightnings flash. 

And many forest trees down hurled do crash, 
Rent by the bolt of Heaven's consuming fire. 

Impressive then and grand her mystic power. 
And dreadful to the cowardly of soul; 

Typical of the roused patriot's ire. 
When enemies assail and dangers lower, 

To obstruct the way to Freedom's goal. 
No crumbling arch or massy ruin round 

Was spread above a fallen nation's tomb; 
In all that land no monument is found, 

Or pillars rise or walled enclosures loom; 
There only the high mountain tops look down. 

Upon the fertile plains and valleys spread. 
And clustering rustic homes that smile around. 

Where industry pervades, and freemen tread. 
Such the lone place where met the banded free. 

Their only dome Heaven's high canopy; 
Who met were they who guarded liberty; 

That question solved they dwelt in unity; 
They were the Granger League all pledged to guard 

The cause that statesmen do profess to love — 
Momentous cause! which kings so oft have marred, 

Is this great gift to man, from God above. 

They were the farmers of the land, 
A sturdy, freeborn, granger band. 
From hills and vales on every hand, 
And from the prairie. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 59 

They came from each broad river's side, 
From strands washed by old ocean's tide, 
From mighty forests spreading wide. 
And lake's receding shore. 

They came, each youth and patriot gray, 
No glittering pageant marked their way, 
Or pompous show, or rich display, 
Or strains of minstrelsy. 

They came, as come the brave and strong. 
They came a firm and honest throng. 
They brought the thoughts of men along, 
Who love sweet Liberty. 

Ready to grasp their weapons bright, 
For honor's sake and virtue's light. 
And for the cause of Freedom's right, 
United were they all. 

No despot there would dare to tread. 
Where those stern souls to council sped. 
They were the sons of those who bled, 
On Bunker's fiery hill. 

That time were roused the freemen of the land. 
Though Tyranny long since discomfited. 

To other shores had sought on every hand. 
Congenial home and refuge where he fled; 
But left the seed of discord widely spread. 
And deeply rooted in the hearts of those, 
Who by the thoughts of selfish aims are led; 



6o NA riONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

Such the base souls who stirred rebellion through; 
Such the vile purpose all of slavery's banded crew. 

Thus met the central council of the land, 
The wise and pure from States on every hand; 
Hushed was each voice as their great leader rose, 
Naught but the zephyrs stirred the deep repose: 
Then spoke the chosen one, the granger chief, 
In most emphatic terms, but tersely brief. 



' In brotherhood I greet you all. 
Met here responsive to my call! 
Your country's cause and laws demand, 
Prompt aid from every patriot's hand, 
For treason stirs the land to day! 
No longer then should we delay; 
Pledged to live as live the free, 
Maintaining perfect liberty 
In council, or if needs to be. 
To march where foes assail; 
The time has come! we will not quail 
To go where threatened dangers call! 
Then speed the warning brothers all, 
To every lodge throughout the land, 
Where meet a trusted granger band! 
' To arms! to arms! ' shall be our cry! 
Swear by all our hearts hold dear. 
By every bond, each sacred tie 
Of memories that cannot die. 
Our souls shall know no other fear. 
No other hate than that that stirs. 
The freeman when the land he loves, 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 6 1 

Is threatened by invasion's tide, 

Or treason's blight is spreading wide! 

Nor shall our arms be laid aside, 

Until the foe's subdued! 
Come danger, pestilence, or death. 

Triumph alone shall quench the feud, 
Of treason's blighting breath! 
We no more could breathe the air, 
Where rebels arm to do and dare. 
Defying all our country's laws. 
Upholding naught but slavery's cause; 
Then we will stamp this treason out. 
Their utmost power we'll whelm in rout. 

Or die as patriots die, 

For grangers never fly! 
Then swear we never will return. 

To greet the forms we love, 
Nor shall our ardor cease to burn. 
Till we have conquered every foe, 
And laid the boastful traitors low." 

In answering shout, " We swear! " resounded high, 
And echoed loud along the valleys nigh, 
Heaven's high arch did hear the mighty sound, 
And all that vale that spread its verdure round ; 
Then slowly, sternly, as the thoughtful go — 
Because the subject had impressed them so — 
They parted until many months had flown. 
Or parted then for aye, for Freedom claimed her own. 

Each patriot ere many days were gone, 
Was ranked where warlike feats were known, 



62 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

And young and old were there. 
But, 'twas when the fight was on, 
When grangers to the battle poured, 
Eager to meet the rebel horde. 

Then they were found the foremost there — 
'Midst smoke and fire and bursting shell, 

Their forms seemed everywhere; 

Sometimes obscured and then anon — 
Whilst many comrades fell — 
They led where perils most did lower, 

Nor faltered in the strife; 
But taught each rebel foe to cower. 

To save a recreant life. 
Such were the men who dared to fight — 
Freemen marshaled in their might, 
Conquering, unconquerable and grand. 
Safe guardians of a happy land! 
Tyrants from far may view its strand. 

But dare not tread its soil. 

The grangers fought as freemen ever fight, 
For God, their country, union and the right: 
Of all who fought and triumphed in that cause. 
The Granger League was foremost there and true 
In soul and purpose to restore the laws, 
Nor sheathe the sword till traitors then did sue; 
And finally did triumph, too. 

At last sweet peace did bless the land again. 
Restored their country's flag without a stain; 
The grangers to their homes returned once more, 
Where all seemed sweeter, brighter than before. 
And the loved ones more loving and beloved. 
Because their hearts by gratitude were moved. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 63 

Still meet on every hand, 
A chosen granger band, 
To guard their native land, 
All its strand. 

Grangers were found true, 
Where Liberty first grew. 
And planted Freedom too, 
As they knew. 

Their camps are spreading wide. 
Gaining strength on every side, 
It cannot be denied, 
Like a tide. 

Still other lands shall know, 
What gifts from Freedom flow. 
If farmers rightly sow, 
To and fro, 

The seed of Wisdom's thrift, 
From God a precious gift. 
And the tares of treason sift. 
As they go. 



64 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 



THE CAUSE IS ALL. 

THE patriot's cause doth hallow though it fail; 
Though tyrants scoff at what all freemen hail 
As worthy efforts, consecrated deeds; 
The cause is all! 'tis principle that pleads. 

Not so the cause where some fell tyrant strives 
To build ignobly on the blasted lives 
Of fellow beings subject to his trust; 
What worthy soul will reverence his dust ? 

Eternal infamy and hate intense, 
His name will blazon through the ages hence; 
His bulky tomb that rears its shaft on high, 
Commemorates the ills that ne'er will die. 

Still worse the cause where rebels strove to gain 

That sordid aim that in itself was vain; 

Nor heeded their fair country's fears. 

That smiled before their deeds did wring her tears: 

Who sought to rob her of the cherished past, 
The glory, honor, and the hopes that cast 
Their radiance on our patriot sires and brave, 
Who long have slumbered in an honored grave. 

It matters not how bravely they then stood. 

Nor yet how freely shed their heart's warm blood; 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 65 

E'en courage in such cause augments the shame; 
Their epitaph is written all in blame. 

For guilt and crime were centred in each deed 
That bade out country weep, its patriots bleed: 
No hero's eye will view their grave to weep, 
But dust to dust as the ignoble sleep — 

Remembered only by indignant worth, 
As they who desecrated Freedom's hearth; 
Contemned as rebels, such shall be their doom, 
Consigned as traitors to unhonored tomb. 



THE ANTHEM OF THE FREE. 

UPON the broad Atlantic's wave, 
'Midst tumult of the deep, 
Why does yon fragile vessel brave 
The storms that never sleep ? 

Ho, pilot! wherefore dost thou guide. 

Before the driving blast. 
Thy bark upon that unknown tide. 

Thus ever speeding fast ? 

No friendly voice will welcome thee, 

Upon yon distant coast; 
Thy trust alone in God must be. 

Thy hope and anchor most! — 



66 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

Rich freighted was that storm-tossed bark, 

With souls a pilgrim band; 
And though the sought-for coast loomed dark, 

It was their promised land: 

And longing, soulful eyes were bent, 

Upon its rock-bound shore, 
Because the Lord of Hosts had rent, 

Their bonds forevermore. 

They fled their own familiar shore, 

They braved the angry wave, 
They welcomed dangers spread before, 

Nor fled a life to save. 

But sought a refuge where the free. 

Could worship God in sooth; 
They fled the land where tyranny 

Denied the right of truth. 

Dire perils lurked around, before, 

Upon that stormy sea. 
But on that frowning, wintry shore, 

They planted Liberty! 

They came not diere in boastful might. 
Nor sought the mine's bright ore. 

But came where the pure gospel's light. 
Gave comfort as of yore. 

' The solemn anthem of the free, 
Rose on that lonely shore; 
It was the song of Libert)^ 
The breeze of morninq- bore! 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 67 

There women's voice joined in the song, 

The aged and maiden fair, 
By sturdy youth 'twas borne along, 

By sire all bent with care. 

And lo! that anthem still rolls on, 

Along New-England's shore, 
From Plymouth Rock to Oregon, 

Each southward breeze before. 

A people joins the glad refrain, 

The Freedmen feel its thrill. 
Where slavery was, it snapped its chain, 

Obedient to God's will. 

Far, where the trodden and oppressed, 

Of Siber's steppes crouch. 
There man by^iant wrongs harassed. 

Soon will its powers avouch. 

Glad nations list the paean sweet, 

That soothes each longing soul; 
The weary and athirst do greet. 

Its notes that onward roll, 

In symphonies of true accord, 

That wake the slumbering mind, 
Vibrating to each soulful cord. 

Harmonious as the wind 

When summer smiles, that gendy blows 

O'er fields made rich with corn — 
A guerdon from our God that flows, 

To men to freedom born. 



68 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

What though united tyrants frown, 

To note its heart-felt thrill, 
Yet but awhile shall men bow down. 

Obedient to their will; 

For see! their fetters fall away. 

Before its searching power; 
Sure promise of that brighter day, 

When souls shall cease to cower. 



BUNKER HILL. 

THE cherished name of Bunker Hill, 
Inspires to wake the heart's deep thrill! 
Its soil with the ensanguined tide. 
Of patriot blood was deeply dyed, 
And many a one, the true and brave. 
For Freedom's cause there found a grave: 
That hill was christened 'midst the strife. 
The fire and roar of battle rife, 
'Midst mangled forms all thickly strown. 
The shriek of shell, and dying groan; 
Thus consecrated, it shall be 
The Mecca of the brave and free. 

Sons of the patriotic brave 

Who freely gave a life to save. 

With reverence tread where sleeps the dust. 

Of those who braved a king unjust! — 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 69 

Souls of the great and mighty dead, 
Who bravely stood and freely bled, 
At Marathon rolled back the tide 
Of fell invasion spreading wide. 
No greater meed is thine to tell, 
Than justly glorifies who fell, 
For Freedom's cause contending still. 
Upon old Bunker's fiery hill! 

The story of that day shall live, 
The impulse of that victory give 
Hope to the trodden and oppressed, 
Of lands by Tyranny harassed! 
Nations unborn shall bless the sires, 
Who braved the storm of Bunker's fires, 
Firmly contending there to save 
The manhood and the rights that gave 
A country undefiled in name, 
A nation free from stain or blame. 
That gave us Bunker Hill to be, 
The watchword of our liberty. 

The sacred precincts of that hill. 

Is holy ground to freemen still. 

The inspiration of its name. 

Will shield Columbia's sons from shame, 

Should enemies invade her soil, 

For conquest or assail to spoil; 

Then they would find no hirelings meek, 

Who'd stand between the prize they'd seek. 

But freemen conscious of their might. 

Who for their God and hearths would fight. 

And for the priceless legacy. 

Our fathers gave of Liberty. 



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NATIONAL AND PATRIOTIC POEMS. 



MY NATIVE LAND. 

I'VE wandered oft in foreign lands, 
And braved the waves that washed their strands; 
I've seen the Rhine flow to the sea 
Whilst silvery moon-beams lit the lea; 
I've stood where tawny Tiber flowed, 
'Neath where Italian sunset glowed, 
And o'er the bay of Naples sped. 
But often to myself have said, 
Though scenes like these are fair to view. 
My native land is lovely too. ' ' 

Oh! who that's trod Columbia's soil. 
Where none but noble freemen toil. 
Can envy for a single hour 
The grandeur of a monarch's power, 
In lands where servile thousands crouch, 
Where the oppressed their wrongs avouch, 
Where toiling millions sigh in vain 
For freedom from a tyrant's reign. 
Who bids fell Tyranny to bind 
And fetter each aspiring mind ? 

Land of the heroic, true! , 

I tune my lyre, sweet land, to you; 

I love thy hills and valleys fair, 

I love each clear lake smiling there; 

I love thy mountains towering grand, 

I love the waves that wash thy strand; 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 7 1 

And oh! I love each name enshrined, 
With thy historic scroll entwined, 
Stern guardians of their native soil, 
They bravely fought — but not for spoil. 

Land of the patriotic free, 

My native land, I turn to thee! 

For 'neath thy calm and peaceful skies, 

Are all the joys the heart can prize; 

Through thy glad valleys plenty reigns. 

And every freeman there disdains 

To bend the knee in suppliant guise. 

To sue, where right should give the prize. 

For freemen ask no partial meed 

Wrung from a grudging tyrant' s greed. 

Land of a brave and warlike race! 

Gladness reigns through all thy space, 

For Liberty's perennial flow 

Doth chartered rights on all bestow. 

And equal Justice bears her way, 

Impartially in righteous sway: 

There Freedom's sons, a generous throng. 

Unite to bear her cause along. 

To greet each soul oppressed by gloom, 

And shield from Slavery's hateful doom. 

Free as its river's mighty tide. 
Unfettered by a despot's pride, 
Unvexed, unhampered, grandly strong, 
So Freedom's cause there flows along; 
And awful as Niagara's wrath, 
That sweeps resistless in its path. 



72 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

And pours an ocean o'er the verge, 
Beneath where seething waters surge, 
So would Columbia's sons go forth, 
To shield the land that claims their birth, 

Pour down each vale and mountain side, 
To whelm invasion's fateful tide. 
No foreign foe for long would tread 
Where her brave sons to battle sped. 
To check some haughty tyrant's rage. 
Such were our patriot fathers sage. 
Who for the cause of Freedom rose. 
And did with conquering might oppose. 
When England poured a hireling tide. 
To whelm the land where freemen bide. 

And when Rebellion raised his crest. 
And sought to bind a race oppressed 
Still in the chains of slavery fast, 
And to a world defiance cast. 
Indignant, every patriot rose 
To quell Columbia's direst foes; 
Rebuked presumptious rebel pride. 
And checked the course of Treason's tide; 
Redeemed their country's outraged laws. 
Fair Freedom's rights and Honor's cause. 

Fair land! the Mecca of the free! 
Triumphant still, and yet to be! 
Goal of the trodden and oppressed! 
Land of the vast and golden west! 
Sweet land, most cherished by my heart, 
I ne'er could wish from thee to part! 



NATIONAL AND PATRIOTIC POEMS. 

Other lands are fair to view, 
But thou art free, and lovely, too! 
Free as the wind that listeth nigh ! 
As lovely as thy glorious sky! 



73 



THE VETERAN'S RETURN. 

' ' Fiat Justitia. ' ' 

''T'WAS only a soldier, with dust he was gray, 
1 Slow limping along on the stony highway; 
His sleeve lacked an arm, all unkempt was his hair, 
Unshorn was his beard and much lacking of care. 

He was haggard and wan from traveling from far. 
His gauntness of frame was a feature to mar; 
His garments were tattered, and soiled was the blue, 
There was nothing about him looked fair to the view. 

So he toiled up the hill, then from weariness pale, 
Paused to view the fair scene of his own native vale; 
In the noon's ruddy light it lay smiling before. 
And his eyes danced with joy thus to view it once more. 

Then he thought of the time only two years that fall. 
When exultant he'd marched at Columbia's call; 
When there 'midst the tumult of plaudits and cheers. 
Approved of the fair, and his old mother's tears; 



74 



NATIONAL AND PATRIOTIC POEMS. 



All proudly erect in the ardor of youth, 
To fight for his country, for honor and truth. 
Then sadness o'ercast with a shade his pale brow, 
As he thought of that time and the sorrowful now 

That to him had brought helplessness, penury, pain; 
Then a tear dimmed his eye as he thought ne'er again 
He'd joy in the sports or pursuits of his friends. 
Or join in the mirth that festivity lends. 

Though his garments were tattered and soiled was the blue, 
They covered a heart that was loyal and true; 
Though nothing outside appeared fair to the eye, 
He'd the soul of a hero I joyed to descry. 

He had fought where the battle was sternly contested. 
When Liberty trembled with her laurels near wrested; 
With comrades, undaunted he bided the shock; 
When Hope was despondent he stood like a rock. 

Till the cohorts of Treason exulting before, 
And vaunting their conquests, were heard of no more. 
He had fought for his country, for Liberty, too, 
And, Columbia's fair daughters, he'd suffered for you. 

Let the proud as they pass the poor cripple forlorn. 
Consider the peril that lowered that morn, 
When Rebellion triumphant had spread dire dismay, 
But the bold boys in blue did redeem the dark day. 

Then, place for the patriot! Echo the worth. 

That gave peace to our country, and joy to each hearth! 

Let those who love Liberty smile on the brave. 

And endow those with plenty who suffered to save. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 75 



WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY. 

ALL hail the dawn auspicious to Liberty's glad host! 
The natal day, time-honored of all her heroes most! 
We join in praise conceded to worth of Washington, 
The universal tribute due Columbia's revered son! 

When warlike hosts of Britain, all leagued with Tyranny, 
To crush out rights undoubted, the birthright of the free. 
His honored name inspired each noble patriot most. 
Of all the worthy chieftains of Freedom's warring host. 

And when the foe exultant, encamped upon the land, 

To battle for the tyrant, 'gainst the nation's struggling 

band. 
Her worthy son undaunted, stood firmly in the fight. 
His noble soul rejoicing, to stand for truth and right. 

When our despondent army lay encamped at Valley Forge, 
Where they left their bloody footprints on snows of every 

gorge, 
He swayed with buoyant spirit, the sinking hopes of all; 
His soul the weak inspiring, to rouse at Honor's call. 

His spirit, calm, unruffled, by fortune's adverse tide. 

Soon turned the flood of conquest unto his country's 

side. 
'Twas then the sign propitious, the radiant light of hope. 
Each patriot's heart united, successfully to cope. 



76 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

For Freedom's cause momentous, to millions yet unborn, 
The bright auspicious dawning of Liberty's glad morn. 
And when his star of genius, with sure resplendent beam, 
Diffused the light of triumph, in ever onward stream, 

O'er States of all the nation, new-born and in their spring, 
Then Liberty to all o'erspread her sure protecting wing. 
His wisdom then did truly, with bright prophetic ray. 
Still guide the youthful nation in path of Honor's way. 



MEMORIAL DAY. 

THIS day all other cares resign; 
We'll join to view each hallowed grave. 
Once more for Freedom's cause and thine. 
Comrades, who nobly fought to save! 

To solemn strains we'll softly tread, 

Where silently in death beneath 
Now sleep our ever-honored dead, 

To lay thereon Affection's wreath. 

The story of Columbia's brave. 
Inspires each living heart to-day, 

Dispels the darkness of the grave; 
Their memory will not fade away. 

Brave hearts that once beat high with hope! 

Then Treason trembled at your tread; 
Vainly with you his hosts did cope; 

Before your wrath ignobly bled. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 77 

Then warriors to your country true, 

Lo! Liberty did point the way, 
That shed her brightest rays on you, 

And consecrates Memorial Day. 



THE SOLDIER BOY. 

I SAW young Alfred march one day, 
'Midst plaudits of the crowd, 
To fight where honor called away; 
He to its mandate bowed. 

I saw on consecrated spot, 

A simple stone engraved; 
'Twas then I knew of Alfred's lot, 

And sighed for the bereaved, 

I saw as slowly by I passed. 
His mother kneeling there; 

The sunshine round a halo cast 
And touched her silvered hair. 

I saw ' twas peace the righteous feel, 
Whose trust is anchored sure; 

Its light all radiant seemed to steal. 
To soothe her soul so pure. 

I saw his comrades gather there, 
When one more month had sped, 

Around two graves with reverent care, 
To deck each lowly bed. 



78 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

I saw Affection's sweet employ, 
Adorn where they did bide; 

The mother and her hero boy, 
Were sleeping side by side. 



RESURGAM. 

BRAVE comrades that fell in the thick of the fight, 
Should each grave be o'ergrown in the course of 
time's flight, 
Still each true heart will glow in remembrance of all 
The valor that strove at Columbia's call! 

And though ye are fallen and scattered afar. 

Like the leaves of the forest when winter doth mar, 

Yet the spirit dies not — it will live to inspire. 

Should invasion's dread tide spread around its wild fire. 

Or if rebels should threaten to scourge and to blight, 
Then each patriot soul would rejoice in the light 
That is shed o'er the deeds of the brave who are gone, 
But whose fame has lived on through the years that have 
flown. 

Ye, too, shall live on in your country's bright story! 

Each name be enrolled on the page of its glory 

That hallows the past of the patriot brave. 

Who stood for the right, shed their warm blood to save. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 7 9 

Your deeds will live, too, in the records of time! 

Their glory inspire the bard's subject and rhyme! 

For the spirit undying, with lessons it taught, 

Will illume with its presence the fields where you fought. 

When peril's dark clouds o'er the nation do roll, 
To obscure the bright path to sweet Liberty's goal. 
When dangers environ and threaten to fall. 
Then inspiring, will prompt at the spell of her call! 



THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN 
AND MISSION RIDGE. 

WHEN giant Treason raised his hand, 
And rashly sought to rend the land. 
Defiant yet his warlike host. 
Lay trenched where victory promised most. 

That mighty power with sullen mien. 
Thronged where each vantage spot was seen; 
Was planted firm on ridge and slope. 
Where those high crests with clouds do cope. 

Upon each mountain top and side, 

And near the river's rapid tide; 

They held each intervening vale, 

They swarmed where frowning crags prevail. 



8o NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

His followers on that chosen field, 
Were firm in purpose not to yield; 
All confident in soul were they, 
No foe could force that guarded way. 

Where Tennessee's broad current bends. 
And where the valley's breadth extends, 
That time Columbia ranked her brave, 
Inspired by Liberty to save. 

Who viewed her host in close array, 
Beheld a grand and gay display; 
Their myriad polished weapons there. 
Upraised beneath the sun's broad glare. 

Flashed back his beams reflected bright, 
As shimmering in the morning light. 
That bannered power in marshaled strength. 
Extended long the valley's length. 

And on the ridge's sloping side. 
Close where the silent waters glide. 
Then Freedom rallied in her might. 
And nerved each patriot for the fight. 

All eager for the conflict's brunt, 
To curb bold Treason's haughty front; 
Then pealed the charge, inspiring sound. 
That waked the slumbering echoes round, 

When lo ! each corps instinct with life. 
Moved onward to the battle's strife; 
'Twas then Columbia's battle woke! 
Loudly her volleyed thunders broke! 



NAT INN AL AND PATRIOTIC POEMS. 

And "Onward! upward!" was the cry, 
While shouts of triumph rent the sky; 
Brave warriors to their country true, 
Charged on, those tangled mazes through. 

Still on and up the vanmost pressed, 
Until they gained the mountain's crest; 
Success prophetic to the cause! 
Nor did the 'eventful conflict pause. 

The battle tide in onward flow, 
Rolled fiercely still in ceaseless throe, 
And distant cannons' rumbling, bore 
Sure proof that Treason fled before. 

Proclaiming war's relentless tide. 
Poured down the further mountain's side. 
Not sound alone did mark the way, 
Columbia took each awful day. 

'Twas marked by blood, by comrades strown. 
By mangled forms of foes 'twas known; 
But sternly on Columbia swept, 
Still on, though pleading Mercy wept. 

Proud time for Liberty's glad host! 

Their valor is Columbia's boast! 

No longer there did Treason lurk; 

They gained the stronghold's rearmost work. 

The strife was o'er, 'twas done, for lo! 
The eye beheld a fleeing foe. 
With sullen mien retreating far, 
Before the swift advance of war. 



82 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

Then on each crested hight remote, 
Each vantage hold, o'er yawning moat, 
Her flag in triumph floated free, 
Proclaiming joyous victory. 



THE DRUMMER BOY OF GETTYSBURG. 

YOUNG Alfred was a drummer boy; 
Drumming his delight and joy; 
Proficient, though his years were few; 
Right well each martial strain he knew. 

Of slender form and features fair. 
Crowned by a wealth of dark-brown hair; 
All loved the boy — his sunny face 
And gentie mood, too, lent its grace. 

I wondered much that one so slight, 
Should brave the perils of the fight, 
Privations of the tented camp, 
Or hardships of the day's long tramp. 

But always he was blithe and gay; 
His sparkling eyes did seem to say, 
" To duty I'll be ever true. 
To country, honor, comrades too." 

And when the tired column lagged. 
Oppressed by heat its spirit flagged. 
His cheering drum inspired it so. 
It lent each cheek a hopeful glow. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 83 

We marched and marched for many days, 
O'er dusty roads and miry ways, 
To meet the bold, exulting foe, 
And lay the boastful rebels low. 

Our drummer stood the hardships well, 
Whate'er our hurried march befell. 
Until we reached the chosen field, 
Where Treason's host was doomed to yield. 

At last at Gettysburg we camped, 
The gladdest host that ever tramped. 
All eager for the conflict's brunt, 
To curb the foe's advancing front. 

Whose ranks arrayed in serried length, 
Marched proudly on in conscious strength; 
On, o'er the intervening space. 
Their masses poured with steady pace. 

Right up the ridge whereon we lay. 

Whilst many fallen marked their way; 

Then waked the mighty din of war! 

Whilst their thinned ranks closed up once more. 

Still, on they pressed, undaunted by 
The iron hail that hurtled nigh; 
They gained the ridge's utmost hight, 
They closed, then hotter grew the fight. 

Fiercely the battle raged around. 
But still we held our chosen ground, 
Till at one point our line gave way, 
And rout seemed imminent that day. 



84 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

Pressed back by numbers, all unstemmed 
There war's fierce waves our ranks o'erwhelmed, 
Presaging dire disaster, where 
That vital point was most our care. 

Just then, right in the battle's van, 
Near where that partial rout began. 
Young Alfred hatless, with his drum 
Loud sounding midst the battle's hum, 

Rallied the stragglers round the flag. 

Just as the foe began to lag; 

Yet confident in soul were they. 

That naught could stop their onward way. 

Before that tide had spent its force, 
Whilst victory hovered o'er their course. 
Those scattered ranks pressed back before, 
Closed up and firmly stood once more. 

Loud beat the charge! its martial sound 
Inspiring every heart around; 
Then — " Forward! forward! " was the cry. 
And — "Victory! victory!" pealed on high. 

Then 'twas the rebel rout began; 

But fallen in the conflict's van. 

Young Alfred wounded, 'mongst the slain. 

Lay bleeding, racked by direst pain. 

I saw him as I chanced to pass, 
Life's purple tide was ebbing fast; 
I stanched the flow with patient care, 
Till other aid had gathered there. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 85 

Oh, who can tell the terrors there! 
The dead were strewn round everywhere; 
Too, many mangled, spread before, 
The victims of relentless war. 

When Alfred's case in turn was viewed, 
My fears for him were then renewed; 
All pale and wan our drummer lay. 
Upon the field that 'ventful day. 

The surgeons tried their utmost skill; 
He bravely bore the pain, until 
His mangled limb was severed quite. 
Then sunk no more to view the light. 

In sorrow his aged mother came. 
And bore him to her home again; 
He was her all, her only boy; 
That bright young life had been her joy. 

Within the quiet churchyard green, 
A simple stone may now be seen. 
Where often at the close of day, 
His widowed mother kneels to pray. 

Her quiet dignity of mien. 
Her sweet, sad face so often seen, 
Bedewed with tears bent o'er that mound, 
Doth consecrate that burial ground. 



86 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 



THE PRISON.PEN. 

A Tale of the Great Rebellion, U. S. N. A., i86o-'65. 

YOU ask the story of my life ? 
Ah! it were long to tell; 
It would, though marked by deeds of strife, 

Prove wearisome as well. 
But how my form was crippled so, 

And of that dire event 
That filled a soldier's heart with woe, 
His manly strength has bent — 

Though of myself, perhaps 'tis well. 

The whole dread facts to state: 
Too, of the Prison-camp I'll tell. 

And of my brother's fate. 
He was more gentle — younger far — 

Less used than I too roam. 
Of softer mood, who shunned to war, 

The darling of our home. 

While I, the roughest of the flock. 

Braved perils with delight; 
Yes, gloried in the battle-shock. 

And scorned to think of flight; 
Thus for adventure's dubious chance, 

I joined the ranks of war; 
My youthful ardor' d still enhance 

Its glories won afar. 



NATIONAL AND PATRIOTIC POEMS. 87 

He, from a sense of duty's course, 

Who feels the patriot's ire, 
To curb the rebel foe, perforce, 

And check war's spreading fire. 
Whilst fighting in the batde's van. 

Advanced beyond our line. 
Just ere the rebel rout began, 

I saw what fate was mine. 

The foe, by sudden rally, burst 

From out a wood concealed; 
The dash o'erwhelmed the twenty-first, 

And then it was revealed — 
The foe thus sudden turned our flank, 

So cutting off retreat; 
'Twas then two-hundred of our rank. 

They captured in defeat. 

Ah! had we known the fate in store, 

The terrors of its lot, 
Then death had claimed me there, before 

The prison closed to blot 
Out many a life then buoyed by hope. 

Soon doomed to grim despair. 
Called thence with horrors dire to cope, 

Environed everywhere. 

What need to tell of that fell pen ! 

The ghastly torments there! 
A very hell devised for men 

Deserving better care! 



88 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

Though starved to gauntness in that place, 

My hardy frame inured 
To hardships born of hunter race, 

Its trials yet endured. 

Of my scant store a part I shared, 

And strove, but strove in vain. 
That Edward's life might yet be spared. 

To bless our home again. 
' Twas at the close of a bright day, 

The sun went down blood-red. 
The sighing wind swept on its way. 

Nor cooled his fevered head. 

My soul was filled with gloom and hate. 

To see him suffering there; 
O God! 'twas bitter stroke of fate, 

To know he lacked of care! 
'Twas hard thus far from friends to die. 

Held grasped by cruel power, 
So stricken down, thus frenzied lie, 

In youth's most hopeful hour. 

Then his delirious fancy roamed 

To scenes his heart held dear. 
To mill and race, where waters foamed, 

Of wondering childhood's fear. 
Near where the valley's mantling green, 

O'erspreads each rocky ledge, 
Close where our homestead smiles between, 

Right by the river's edge. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 89 

He spoke of haunts our boyhood knew, 

Each name we then had known, 
Of friends that trial had proved true, 

Of boyish pleasures flown; 
Of forests gay, with songsters bright, 

That clothed the valley's side, 
Whose changeful hues in autumn light, 

Reflected from the tide, 

Where moored by a green, sloping bank, 

His boat still safely rode. 
There 'midst the rushes tall and rank, 

Where that broad river flowed; 
Of mother-love, our father kind, 

Of sisters bright and fair. 
And there was one that frenzied mind, 

Oft named with loving care. 

Then on each sunken cheek, the flush 

Paled in the fading light, 
And silence solemn in its hush, 

Fell on the gathering night. 
'Twas then enfeebled nature sunk. 

Whilst comrades gathered near; 
I knew, but from the truth I shrunk 

In trembling and in fear. 

But sweetly as an infant blest, 

' Midst gloom of southern night, 
My gentle brother sunk to rest. 

His spirit took its flight. 



90 ISTA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

Oh! how I longed for day to break, 

To see his features there! 
I watched till heart and brain did ache; 

I cursed in grim despair. 

With one great sob of agony — 

I could not help but weep, 
For grief just then o'erwhelmed me — 

Before it seemed to sleep. 
O God! how hard it is to part 

With those we love, or bear 
The cross that sunders thus the heart. 

Linked to a soul so fair! 

Then thoughts of home, and loved ones there, 

Though you may call it weak. 
And extreme sadness unaware. 

Stole o'er my soul then meek — 
So waited till the morning light 

Illumed his marble brow; 
The wind just stirred his ringlets bright — 

Methinks I see him now. 

Then a fierce madness siezed my mind, 

To view that life so wrecked; 
For when the sacred ties that bind, 

Howe'er sternly it is checked. 
Two hearts are severed thus perforce, 

By brutal course of power. 
Indignantly the blood will course. 

The soul refuse to cower. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 9 1 

Then I resolved as that poor clay, 

With rude unhallowed rite, 
Was laid beneath the sod that day. 

Upon the coming night, 
I'd break the bonds that held me there, 

Or perish in the chance, 
For I no more that thrall could bear, 

So viewed with anxious glance, 

The aspect of the coming night. 

As darkness closed apace; 
It proved propitious for my flight; 

Alone I crossed the space 
And scaled the prison's bounds unharmed; 

By flashing lights I knew 
The prison guard then all alarmed. 

Were hastening to pursue. 

Too, other dangers gathered 'round; 

I knew the hound's deep bay. 
For they my track had quickly found. 

Were speeding on its way. 
So down a creek's steep verge I bent, 

To baffle for awhile, 
And through its rapid current went; 

Thus would their scent beguile. 

Soon, I the further shore made good, 

Just as the morning's ray 
Disclosed where in my path he stood, 

A sentry barred the way. 



92 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

Thus hemmed, made desperate for my life, 

As tiger from its lair, 
I sprang and closed in deadly strife; 

Thus taken unaware, 

I seized him in my frenzied grasp. 

And down a rocky bank. 
All senseless from my vice-like clasp. 

Beneath the waves he sank. 
Armed with the weapon he had dropped, 

I sped to a deep wood; 
Then feeling more secure, I stopped 

To listen where I stood. 

Long used to hunter's craft, each sound 

My quick ear noted well, 
Though knowing danger lurked around, 

There was no sound to tell, 
Till near the ground I listening bent — 

Yes, then the dread truth broke; 
New terrors to my lot it lent. 

But not a word I spoke. 

That low, deep bay, I knew too well; 

The hounds had tracked me there; 
I then resolved my life to sell, 

To foes who would not spare: 
'Twixt two huge rocks closed at my back. 

Thus screened except in front. 
That nothing of due care should lack, 

I bided there the brunt. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 93 

Nor long I waited the event, 

Two hounds drew quickly near; 
Like fiends from nether regions sent, 

They seemed to know no fear; 
Right at me in my lurking place. 

With savage yelp and growl — 
You see this scar upon my face — 

One paid it with a howl; 

For whilst I held the brute at bay, 

I plunged my blade with stroke 
That huntsmen know, when through that way, 

The other on me broke. 
So sudden was his bold assault, 

He dashed aside my guard; 
Then for a moment all at fault. 

He pressed my skill right hard. 

'Twas then my arm was mangled so; 

Then was my courage tried. 
Nor failed, as swift I plied each blow. 

Until the creature died. 
Though faint and bleeding, thus released 

From the most dreaded foes, 
I bandaged till the blood-flow ceased, 

With skill that need best knows. 

I had not dared to fire my gun, 

In that relentless fray. 
But laid it down when it begun. 

Lest the report betray: 



94 



NATIONAL AND PATRIOTIC POEMS. 

I knew that near the prison-guard, 
Pressed where the hounds led on; 

Soon I perceived them following hard, 
Too, heard their shouts anon. 

So on I plunged 'mid tangled brakes, 

And welcomed nature's screen, 
That skirted two small smiling lakes, 

That barred my way between. 
Ha! fortune stood my friend that day! 

For close beside the shore, 
I viewed upon the tide where lay, 

A skiff my way before. 

I quickly sprang within that bark. 

Pushed out upon the deep, 
And plied the oars amain till dark. 

Then landed me to sleep. 
Where on the further shore a wood. 

Close sheltered my retreat; 
I hid the skiff, secured the food — 

For hunger bade me eat 

Of store rd found within the boat — 

Then laid me there to rest. 
For full three days except to note. 

What course would next be best, 
I rested hid within that wild 

Until my strength renewed, 
Then through a way 'midst mountains piled. 

In safety I pursued. 



NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 95 

I reached at last a friendly camp, 

Where comrades wondering gazed; 
When told the story of my tramp, 

Each hearer was amazed 
At my gaunt frame and wildered state, 

From sufferings whilst immured; 
I spoke of wrongs with frenzied hate. 

In that dread pen endured. 

My recent wounds still ghasdy, bore 

Sure proof of that stern strife, 
Where but for skill learned long before, 

I'd surely lost my life. 
Why need I to prolong this tale ? 

Friends vied with kindest care 
To aid, how could my spirit fail. 

Though stricken unaware. 

For fever followed swift in train, 

With other ills endured; 
But soon my wounds were healed again, 

And of that fever cured. 
By leave, I reached the homestead old, 

Where loving friends drew round; 
' Midst mingling tears my story told. 

To those by ties near bound. 

Still, subdued grief its shadow casts. 

Athwart our peaceful home; 
Such sorrow causes pain that lasts; 

It bid me cease to roam. 



96 NA TIONAL AND PA TRIO TIC POEMS. 

So now my days are bent to smooth 

The path of parents kind; 
Thus, their dedining years I'd soothe, 

Till peace and rest they find. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 97 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 



THE AERIE— A TALE OF REAL LIFE. 

A MOTHER'S love, 
'Tis tender, holy, pure; 
A lovely trait from God above, 

That ever does endure; 
Exceeding every other tie, 
That gentle Nature binds us by. 



You see yon cliff uprising high. 
And darkling all the valley nigh ? 
Note where the darkest shadows fall. 
Close where that pine, so huge and tall, 
There half way up, doth almost hide 
A shelf projecting from its side. 
That shelf — it is the very spot. 
Where I that day the eagle shot! 
'Twas long ago, when I was young, 
Oft hunting then those crags among; 
Active and fearless at that time, 
I loved each dangerous hight to climb. 
Now whilst we rest beside that spring. 
Close where yon mountain cedars fling 



98 TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

Their cooling shade athwart the way, 

I'll tell you of that awful day, 

That shook my strength and made me gray. 

It happened in this very wild; 

'Tis of the eagles and my child; 

No wonder I remember well. 

The fearful story I now tell. 

You see where yonder stream doth glide, 

So swiftly down the mountain's side; 

Now trace its way where 'twixt those trees. 

Whose branches tossing to the breeze. 

Reveal between, then hide, the bright 

Reflected rays of silvery light. 

That marks its course through devious ways. 

Till hidden by the landscape's haze 

Of the far valley's shimmering light. 

Where all between is glowing bright: 

There in that lovely bowered retreat, 

Where Nature smiles in aspect sweet, 

Just where the rapid current bends. 

And where the valley's breadth extends, 

'Tis there our rustic homestead lies; 

Close where you trace those hills that rise, 

All clothed in tints of vernal green. 

That add their grandeur to the scene. 

I love to view our woodland cot. 

Embowered within that charming spot. 

Afar from some bold towering hight. 

At sunset, bathed in rosy light; 

And note with eager gaze each thing. 

That o'er that sacred spot doth fling 

A spell that binds my heart to home. 

I never had desire to roam. 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 99 

So you can guess how we are bound; 
For early love hath thrown around 
Each spot its romance and its charm — 
Loved all the more for danger's 'larm. 

That morning I, with lightsome tread, 
Had to yon distant mountain sped; 
When close beside its southern base, 
I'd won the object of my chase. 
And with my spoil, the mountain roe, 
Had forded the swift Manistoe; 
I had the further bank made good. 
Laid down my burden and there stood. 
To listen to each well-known sound, 
And keenly scan the scene around; 
For those were times of dangers, too, 
Should one unwary wonder through 
Where coverts so luxuriant grow — 
For Indians I had cause to know, 
Oft times were lurking in the brake. 
My eyes were bent o'er yonder lake. 
Where a huge bird was soaring high 
Outlined against the cloudless sky; 
I knew it by its flight and size — 
No other bird could thus arise 
To such tremendous hight in air. 
Or wing its way so tireless there. 
When burdened by its prey; — so high, 
'Tis thus that only eagles fly. 

I watched it take its steady flight. 
In line with Eagle Clifl^s bold hight; 
I stood concealed by shrubbery; 
Unheeding, it flew over me; 



I oo TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

Then I could just discern its prey, 
But heedless would have turned away, 
Had not an object from on high, 
Slow falling caught my wondering eye; 
It dropped, as borne upon the breeze. 
Right on a clump of cedar trees, 
Where held as 'twere before my gaze, 
It fluttered in the sunlight's blaze. 

Then prompted by some subtle power, 
Prophetic to my soul that hour, 
I sprang and caught within my grasp — 
Great God! as then I held it fast. 
My brain was stunned, with horror dazed! 
'Twas on my baby's hood I gazed. 
The fearful truth like lightning flashed; 
I seized my gun and madly dashed 
As swift as any mountain deer; 
My feet seemed winged by thoughts of fear; 
My own sweet babe for eaglet's prey! 
Oh! how I sped up that rough way. 
That led precarious there, and near 
To that fell spot so wild and drear! 
On, on, I scarcely paused to rest. 
As up that dangerous way I pressed. 
At last I won a rock so near, 
I viewed, all anxious then with fear, 
My babe, the brood, the mighty bird — 
The eaglets' hungry call I heard, 
And misery for my ear to heed! 
My infant cry, in direst need. 

In my mad haste, reckless of self, 
I reached at last the very shelf; 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. i o I 

A boulder on its outmost verge, 
Loosed by my final desperate surge, 
To fling myself upon firm ground, 
Rolled with tremendous echo down. 

Startled, the watchful eagle flew. 
And saw me burst the thicket through; 
When screaming shrilly to its mate — 
I knew that hour would seal my fate, 
Unless successfully I'd cope 
With them, but I was buoyed with hope; 
The powerful bird majestically 
Down-stooping, then assailed me; 
My trusty knife I firmly clasped; 
Unerringly it struck, I grasped 
Its tallons with a vice-like strength; 
Its mighty wings were spread at length; 
My blade I plunged with desperate stroke, 
When struggling from my grasp it broke; 
'Twas its last throe. Without delay. 
Then to the aerie made my way. 
Yet fearing, too, to find my child — 
Awhile with doubt and frenzy wild. 
When overhead, fast drawing near, 
A rush of wings assailed my ear. 
And scream so loud and shrill, it woke 
Fantastic echoes where it broke; 
The female of the eagle pair. 
Swift stooping cleft the buoyant air; 
Quickly my rifle aimed full true. 
Its deadly ball did pierce her through; 
When down the gorge's deep descent. 
Her circling form all lifeless went. 



I02 TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

And thus released from dangers near, 
I hastened tremulous with fear, 
And tenderly I raised with care, 
My baby then unconscious there. 
'Twas all unharmed as I could see; 
But motionless and silently, 
It lay all rigid, wan and pale; 
My own strength, too, oh, should it fail 
In that dread hour! Well had I need 
Each helpful aid observant heed; 
With care I wrapped the babe about, 
Securely with my strong surtout, 
And strapped, I swung him on my back. 
Thus that my limbs should nothing lack 
In freedom making that descent. 
Next, to the eagle's nest I went — 
I would not leave them thus to die. 
For they were young, unused to fly; 
I quickly killed the whole fell brood, 
Then made my downward journey good. 
To where a tiny streamlet ran; 
There bathed my baby's cheeks so wan, 
And laved his infant brow — my task 
To aid, I had my huntsman's flask — 
Its contents'used to rub him o'er, 
When joy! he oped his eyes once more! 
Reanimated, soon gained strength. 
In the cool shade revived at length. 

'Twas then by love and hope inspired. 
New energies my system fired; 
So onward through the wild I sped, 
Down through the valley's length that led 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 103 

To where our homestead smiling stood; 
Thus safely had my way made good. 

But where was she ? Lo ! prone along 
In senseless faint the shrubs among, 
I found my darling wife, forlorn, 
Whom I had left so gay that morn; 
But ah! how changed in those brief hours! 
What dire result where sorrow lowers. 
To whelm the soul with sudden grief 1 
All unexpected, past belief. 
The ills we must so oft deplore! 
Thus dangers all unthought before, 
Lurk when we feel secure. My child 
So weak, my wife then roused, but wild. 
I was bewildered with my woe, 
Thus needing aid, yet loath to go 
And leave my wife and child alone. 
She in her frenzy still did moan 
And shudder, but regained at last. 
A knowledge of the frightful past; 
Remembering what loss befell, 
Still sobbing, she began to tell 
Between, what happened, how, and when; 
ReUeved and soothed, I deemed 'twas then 
The moment to restore the child, 
And tell how rescued in the wild. 

I placed the infant in her arms; 
Oh! what can equal fond alarms, 
Thus cent' ring in the closest tie, 
That love and life can bind us by! 
She lost all thought of self or me; 
And sure, 'twas wonderful to see 



1 04 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

How well a mother's love can charm, 
Dispelling soon all fear of harm. 

'Twas then our neighbors' aid I sought, 
When by their kind endeavors fraught — 
For woman's nature seems to know, 
The readiest way to soothe a woe — 
Soon sweetly wrapped in gentle sleep, 
Both wife and baby ceased to weep. 

All's well that ends, if it ends well! 
Why need I tire you more to tell ? 
Come, we will take that well-known way, 
That led me home that 'ventful day, 
And you shall see our home, and those 
Of whom I've told before day's close — 
But changed. The eyes that danced with glee, 
Are toned to calm sobriety; 
Her tresses, then a silken store, 
But now with white are silvered o'er: 
The babe, I should have said before. 
Need not fear eagles any more; 
For he has grown so tall, that they 
From him would surely fly away. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 105 



THE TREASURE-TROVE. 

A TALE. 

'npiS five short years ago, not more, 

1 Since first I did these wilds explore. 
And purposed here my home to build, 
My thoughts with bold adventures filled. 

So sure enough it seemed my fate; 
For many a tale I can relate. 
Of dangers known, of fell mishaps. 
More dire and wonderful perhaps. 
Then I had thought in youth to know — 
But dangers known, familiar grow. 

All that concerns my purpose not, 
For now 'tis more my future lot 
That glooms my heart and clouds my brow; 
'Tis come! I must decide it now; 
Listen! to you alone I'd tell 
The mighty secret and its spell. 
For it has cast a spell so dread. 
That all my happiness is fled, 
From burden of the thoughts it brings; 
A shadow 'round my soul it flings 
In nameless terror. Why should fate 
So tempt me, as I will relate! 

I had no thought of wealth or gain, 
When first I bought this wild domain; 
I only wished to dwell in peace. 
From sordid cares I sought release; 



1 06 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

But now I never know the calm 
Of sweet content, the spirit's balm. 
Before I knew this dread unrest, 
I thought my lot by Heaven blest; 
'Tis true I had but modest wealth, 
But I was strong, in perfect health, 
Which now I know was better far, 
For then contentment left no jar 
As now to mar this tranquil life. 
Or urge me to ambition's strife. 

For riches I have little need — 
In truth my friend you must concede. 
That where our tastes and habits blend 
To form our lot, and mine all tend 
To love the independent ways 
Born of this wild- wood's tangled maze — 
' Tis best, if sweet contentment be the test. 
To shun the ways that bring unrest; 
And Lucy has no thought to roam, 
She truly loves our rustic home, 
And thinks the valley 'round our cot, 
Of all the world, the sweetest spot. 
Should I transplant my wild-wood flower. 
From these dear scenes to city bower. 
She'd shun its folly and display. 
And soon would pine herself away; 
So I've resolved to bide me here, 
To rest content with huntsman's cheer. 

The revelation I now make. 
Is meant to have you undertake 
To remove and share a hoard, 
So that our fortunes may accord. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

With our allotted destiny; 
Our interests then in harmony. 

Where is this treasure stored, and how ? 
I will inform you, listen now — 

A faithful friend you've ever been, 
And, too, the nearest of my kin, 
Next to my child and Lucy dear; 
My trust in you doth know no fear, 
It rests on past fidelity: 
The only pledge I'll ask will be, 
That of this hoard a part reserved, 
For our dear Willie be preserved, 
So when he grows to manhood's state, 
Himself may choose his future fate. 
As for myself, a country life 
Best suits me, and contents my wife. 

'Twas just one year ago this fall — 
The very time that did befall 
That dire event that made me gray. 
When Willie nearly fell a prey 
Unto the eagles; when I sought 
For other game then that I caught 
Or shot beyond yon mountain there; 
Of that event you are aware. 

'Twas then whilst up the vale I sped, 
Ranging the way the game had led, 
I noticed up a rocky wall, 
Right o'er a mountain waterfall, 
A hollow cleft within the side, 
And thought, 'twas den where might abide 
Some creature of the wild. Just then 
The bushes moved; but in the shade 
That the o'erhanging foliage made, 



107 



1 08 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

I could discern no more, but knew 
Some bulky beast was prowling through. 

Speeding on my way once more, 
I then resolved to soon explore 
The place, seek out that rocky way: 
The events that happened on that day. 
Deranged my plan — delaying, while, 
Till more propitious time should smile. 

'Twas some months later, early fall, 
When I prepared to scale that wall 
Of which I spoke, then to explore 
The cleft that I had marked before; 
There try to trap the game, or shoot, 
If it should prove some dangerous brute. 
I had good cause to think the bear. 
Or cougar kind had made its lair 
Within the hollow of that cleft. 
High up that mount, by nature reft. 

Prepared for aught that might occur, 
I had my heavy breach-loader, 
A handy axe and lengthy knife; 
And thus prepared 'gainst desperate strife, 
I sallied forth, and straightway sped 
Unto the valley's rugged head. 
Where rock on rock was piled on high; 
I gained a vantage spot close by 
The entrance to that cavern ed lair; 
'Twas then I saw a huge black bear; 
With savage growl he made his way, 
As if to claim me for his prey. 
A deep, broad chasm yawned unseen. 
And checked his headlong way between. 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

Just then a growl as dread, more near 
I heard, and turning saw appear 
From out the brush the mother-bear, 
And cubs near grown, close on my track; 
I had but time to place my back 
Against a boulder near, then fired; 
With one last plunge the bear expired. 
Before I could make good my aim. 
Those grown up cubs came on amain ; 
When springing forth, my axe swung clear, 
They gave no further cause for fear, 
For prone upon the ground^they lay; 
Thus quickly I those young did slay. 

No sooner was I thus released. 
When other dangers near increased; 
For then the largest bear of all. 
Skirting that chasm's rocky wall. 
Drew near with snarl and savage lunge. 
Right at me made a desperate plunge; 
My trusty gun with steady aim 
I fired, and made the creature lame; 
He sprang upon me, but with knife, 
I fiercely waged successful strife; 
With stroke that only huntsmen know, 
Who thus with strife familiar grow, 
I struck a vital part amain. 
When to make sure I struck again; 
'Twas then he rolled upon the ground. 
And sudden quiet reigned around. 

Great weariness from struggling so. 
Forbade the thought ^to further go 
That day, than to examine well 
The lair about, that I might tell 



109 



1 1 o TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

If man might gain admittance there. 
'Twas late, so hastening to prepare 
For home, upon the morn once more 
I would return and then explore. 
I skinned the brutes, and down the steep, 
Did roll each carcass in the deep. 

At dawn upon the following day, 
I started on my devious way; 
Soon gained the tangled wild-wood dell. 
That led up to the rocky cell. 
Close to a chasm's fearful verge, 
Where vale and upland nearly merge. 
I reached the cleft by nature rent, 
And through its entering portal went; 
When by my torch' s flickering glare. 
That flung fantastic shadows there, 
Around, aloft, through all its space, 
A mighty cavern I could trace; 
And God of Heaven ! there revealed — 
Sometimes in shadow half concealed, 
Then flashing out round everywhere — 
On human bones I then did stare; 
Appalled, let fall my torch, when gloom 
As dense as charnal house or tomb 
Ensued; I stood dismayed awhile. 
Whilst terror did each sense beguile. 
When reason had resumed its sway, 
I found the^torch I'd flung away, 
Relit the pine, and cooler then, 
Examined well those bones of men; 
And others, strewn around, of beasts, 
The remnants of repulsive feasts. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 1 1 

And, too, engraved in words of writ, 
On soft sand-stone, by nature fit, 
Ranged on one side in columns fair, 
But briefly worded, ending where 
Some dire event or sudden stroke 
Had doubtless then abruptly broke 
The tenor of his narrative — 
But judge yourself — the words I'll give, 
As they were graved upon that wall; 
'Twas thus, for I transcribed them all. 
" Stranger! if such should find this tomb. 
Behold around the bandits' doom. 
Who perished from starvation's cause, 
O'erwhelmed by freak of nature's laws. 
That poured incessant snows around; 
Thus by those icy fetters bound, 
We lacked of food full many days, 
So perished in our sinful ways. 
I, of the band, alone and last 
Survivor of our long, grim fast. 
Ask grace and courtesy for our groans; 
Give Christian burial to our bones. 
Then dig where yonder sign doth point 
And thou may'st own" — 

It stopped thus short, and prone before, 
His bones lay on the rocky floor; 
Life's vital forces being spent, 
From lack of food, 'twas evident. 
Of who they were, what happed before. 
He thus had failed to record more; 
So sunk at last to final rest. 
The story's end may well be guessed, 



1 1 2 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

For at the spot so pointed out — 
Nor long did need to search about — 
There found a hollow cut with care, 
A huge flat stone was fitted there; 
With spade the debris soon I cleared, 
Removed the stone, when there appeared, 
A treasure vast of gems and gold, 
So great, 'tis yet by me untold. 
But of the coins and ingots there. 
Twice two score men might well despair 
To bear the prize away; then rare 
And costly stones packed everywhere. 
Lay flashing in the torch's hght. 
Revealed unto my dazzled sight. 
I covered o'er the vault again. 
That it in safety might remain; 
Obliterated every sign. 
Graved on that wall in written line. 
Lest chance some other person guide, 
To where that treasure doth now bide. 
Since then in quiet held my way, 
But restless since that 'ventful day. 

I sent that you might aid my plan. 
To solve this mystery if we can. 
With your consent we'll now explore. 
Nor count the spoil as ours, before 
Those fleshless bones are lain away 
With burial rite without delay. 

Yes, certainly! 'tis mine by right; 
By deed I own the cavern's site; 
For all the land around I bought. 
When I this lovely valley sought; 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

But to make sure, discovery 
Would surely give the prize to me; 
Then, the survivor of the rest. 
Revealed it in his last bequest. 

No doubt 'twas taken on the main. 
And both must part with it again, 
Should we the rightful owners find; 
Our compact then is thus confined. 
'Tis doubtful chance if any claim, 
Will ever be preferred again; 
For many years have passed and gone. 
Since first that band these hills among, 
Had made that cave their rendezvous. 
And so one-third of all I'll give to you; 
A like part shall be 'vested, so 
To aid my child when he doth grow 
Of age its value to discern; 
Of that we'll give no more concern. 
Divided equally, the rest. 
Jointly in bank we will invest 
Secure, for charity's sweet sake; 
Atone in part for those it pained. 
When first the hoard was rudely gained. 

THE SEQUEL 

As party to that strange event. 
With much of mystery with it blent. 
Occurred when I was young in years. 
And filled with superstitious fears. 

The huntsman was my uncle kind. 
Courageous, too, withal, of mind 



113 



114 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

That shunned communion with the crowd 

Of city triflers or the proud: 

Some wealth had he in lands made fair 

By nature's hand — his pleasure there. 

The tale thus far as he told me, 

I'll tell the sequel unto thee. 

We gathered all the bones left there, 

Of men, and gave them burial fair. 

The treasure proved of vast amount, 

As I could well give good account; 

The third I vested for his heir; 

It proved a pleasure for my care. 

For it increased and worthy friends. 

Attest the value kindness lends; 

The rest, as many a year has sped, 

Secured as by experience led 

Us to consider for the best — 

As if by hand of Heaven blest — 

Has carried joy to many a home, 

And many a creature poor and lone. 

Through hand of God the Treasure-Trove, 

From curse to man has turned to love. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 1 5 



THE RECONSTRUCTED REBEL. 



A TALE OF TRUE LOvE. 

SWEET Rose of the Glen was a rebel, 
A rebel both petit and fair, 
And whatever from treason befell 

Her, the good of its cause was her care. 

She scorned who was lukewarm of heart. 
Who worshiped with zeal at her shrine, 

And many in chagrin did part, 

When she questioned each prudent design, 

Of those who were neutral when danger, 
Lowered dark o'er success of the cause, 

And persisted that love was a stranger. 
To hearts that ignored honor's laws. 

And she thought in her soul that the brave. 
With courage full worthy of youth, 

Should embark in the army to save, 
A cause she held sacred as truth. 

Rut Love played this prank with sweet Rose: 
Despite of the will that would rise. 

There was one midst the ranks of her beaus, 
Who caught her fond heart by surprise. 



1 1 6 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

The loved had a heart that was true, 
And honest the words that he spoke, 
" He'd never prove false to the blue, 

Or his love for his flag would revoke." 

He asserted, ' ' Rebellion was wrong. 

That her heart must be false as her cause, 

That around her the whole rebel throng 
Were strangers to honor's bright laws." 

The love of sweet Rose was right strong. 
But she chafed when her will was defied; 

Still she scorned all the rest of the throng. 
Though upholding the right of her side. 

Yet she sighed for the love of her heart. 
But was firm for the cause she espoused; 

She told him, " They surely must part," 
For his words much her anger had roused. 

They parted; he joined with the brave. 
Who stood for fair Freedom's great cause; 

He fought long and well to help save 
His country, her honor and laws. 

The tide of the conflict swept on, 

O'er the vale that had sheltered his Rose, 

Pressing hard on the hosts of rebellion, 
Past the spot where her home once uprose. 

But its walls were then fallen or bare; 

All scattered the bowers he had known; 
Not long since the spoiler was there. 

So the charm of its beauties had flown. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 1 7 

He sought and he found 'mongst the few 
Who remained when the whirlwind of war 

Had swept the near valleys through, 
Searing deep with many a scar — 

He found where fell ruin had wrought, 

His loved one disconsolate there; 
Deep sorrow was blent with each thought, 

For the helpless who might well despair. 

He did all he could to assuage 

The grief that was sad to behold; 
But who can check war in its rage. 

Or prevent all its horrors untold ? 

Pausing not for the pleadings of sorrow, 

Relentless it rolls on its way; 
If peace does not dawn on the morrow. 

All its might will be bent then to slay. 

They recked not, who roused the dread scourge, 
When the wildfire of passion flamed high, 

Of the bonds of despair they would forge, 
'Round the hearts of the thousands who sigh. 

His corps for awhile had delayed, 

But duty soon urged him away, 
To pursue where the rebels dismayed, 

But entrenched awhile ventured to stay. 

The gray had retreated in haste. 

When the foe, yet afar, was unseen. 
Which was not to our fair rebel's taste — 

Not a gun had they fired on the scene — 



1 1 8 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

Which shocked the fair maid to behold, 
For oft had they said, ' ' Their warm blood 

Would freely be shed to uphold 

The cause of the land where they stood." 

Now this maid though all rankly a rebel, 
Despised those who quickly had fled, 

And she said, ' ' Whatsoever befell 

Her, hope for the cause was then dead." 

The terrors of war passed away, 

And sweet Peace spread her pinions o' er all, 
The neutral, the blue and the gray, 

And Rose was much changed by the fall — 

The fall of the cause once so dear. 

When reflection had lent its bright ray, 
She confessed to her mind it was clear 

It had utterly gone to decay. 

And she sighed at the ruin around her. 
Her home with its garden of flowers, 

For friends that were gone, and the lover, 

Who had walked with her oft through its bowers. 

Then sadness, with gloom and sorrow, 

Like clouds on a beautiflil day, 
Obscured for awhile the bright glow 

Of beauty's sweet roseate ray. 

One form would appear to her mind, 

One only of all she had known. 
And despite of her pride she then pined 

For the loved one that from her had gone. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 1 g 

She started, as by her retreat 

The sound of a footstep drew near; 
Once again reunited they greet, 

Though surprise fairly wrung a bright tear — 

Not of sorrow, but gladness and joy; 

And she blushed as her love she confessed — 
True love, without selfish alloy. 

Made pure by affliction ' twas blessed. 

Now their home is the glen of their choice, 
Where embowered in its mantling green. 

There those fond hearts united rejoice, 
Whilst they gaze on the beautiful scene. 



PRAIRIE FLOWER, OR LOVE'S 
VENTURE. 

A RIDE FOR A WIFE. 

TALKING about queer weddings here. 
Puts me in mind of one out there. 
Where I came from, in far Decote, 
Close by the ranch of old La Grote, 
On big Sun- Prairie, right near 
Where the three Indian mounds appear. 

There's where she lived, that girl of ours — 
That is we called her ours, Mrs. Towers 



1 20 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

Though took her, but the boys all thought 
They had a right, and so they ought, 
To protect — I'll tell you why — 
They rescued her from freezing nigh; 
That was a sad and dismal sight; 
The boys found her one wintry night. 
Wrapped warmly up where a lone sleigh 
Was found, one man stiff frozen lay 
'Neath the cold blizzard's whelming snow — 
His name or purpose none did know. 

Then she was but a baby girl, 
A little, blue-eyed fairy pearl, 
With lovely face, and golden hair, 
Scattering sunshine everywhere; 
And as she grew from day to day. 
We all admired each cunning way; 
So when the little maid grew tall, 
Her merry heart had won us all. 
She loved to ride both fast and free. 
Over the great broad prairie, 
Each summer day at sunset hour — 
That's why we called her Prairie Flower. 
She was the prettiest maiden there, 
Or, to my thinking, anywhere; 
Just slick, sweet-like and small. 
With supple form, yet not too tall; 
And mustang riding she was there. 
When mounting Belle, her own pet mare. 

Well, you know Jim — young Jim Duprend- 
He fancied her you can depend, 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 2 1 

And grew to be right sweet on her — 
Just natural like it did occur: 
She did not like the others there 
Hanging around, who did not care 
For riding fast and all such fun, 
And that's the way the thing begun. 

So, when the boys kept pestering 
'Bout love and such, and marrying, 
She just out and told them all, 
"I'm only one and rather small; 
One girl can't have so many. Now, 
To all I'll make this solemn vow: 
I'll ride out on the big prairie, 
Who catches first shall marry me." 

Well, they all said, "That's right fair play." 
So, then she did appoint the day. 
It turned out right, the day was fair; 
All the young bucks, you bet, were there; 
Jim Duprend was there, of course, 
Mounted on his favorite horse. 

She had a hundred rods the start; 
I noticed that on Jim she'd dart 
A glance that said, ' ' I hope that he, 
If any catch, the one will be." 
She was mounted on Blue Belle, 
Long-winded and did carry well. 
We older heads were all a-horse 
To see fair play and clear the course. 

G 



122 TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

We took the parson right along, 
To tie the captured maiden strong. 

When all was fixed, we holloed, " Go! " 
Well, you just bet it wasn' t slow. 
Blazes! Great Scott! Gee Witzer! whew! 
All down the prairie how they flew! 
Well, you've seen a young cyclone? 
But still the girl she held her own. 
Away the mare went like the wind. 
And left the fellers far behind, 
' Cept Jim. Old Rover seemed to know 
Why on his master urged him so; 
All free he gave the black his head. 
Spoke words of cheer as on they sped; 
But yet the mare led on alone. 
Until the ground had rougher grown, 
Which Jim perceiving, urged his horse 
With reckless speed to head her course — 
Plunged madly on till he alone 
Did claim the prize as all his own. 

So she gave in right there, of course, 
With merry laugh gave Jim her horse; 
Dismounting waited quite content. 
To Jim's persuasions blushed consent. 
So when we came and formed about, 
The parson he was trotted out, 
Right on the open prairie there. 
With all approving tied the pair. 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 



123 



THE HUNTER'S CAMP. 

A TALE OF ADVENTURES. 

IN youth who hath not felt the spirit's glow, 
When freed from all the rooted bonds of care, 
And with a few, the loved of all we know. 

Hath sought the wild, the hunter's lot to share; 
Shook off the long-time fetters of restraint, 

That city life's dull weary round imposes. 
And far, where deftly Nature's hand doth paint 

Upon the cheek her whilom roses. 
Camped in her virgin valleys for awhile; 

To breathe once more the health inspiring air, 
Or from some height to view the country smile. 

Whilst toil made sweet the hunter's homely fare. 
Such the intent that stirred the youthful hearts 

Of six who linked from boyhood's happy day, 
In friendship's ties and kindred social parts, 

In joyous mood, did wander far away. 
'Twas in a mountain vale, where near 

Its sloping southern side, then clothed in green. 
There flowed a rapid stream all bright and clear; 

Adown it sped and grew, until was seen 
A broad and winding river shine between, 

Where mighty forests clothed the valley's side, 

Far in the hazy distance spreading wide, 

That added much unto the lovely scene. 



124 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 



There on a grassy slope they pitched their camp, 

To dwell awhile beneath the spreading shade 

That many lofty mountain cedars made. 
First to recover from the arduous tramp, 

Then after, to explore each mountain glade; 
And when a few more days had sped away, 

They found the place so fit on every hand. 
They then resolved 'twas a good place to stay. 

The aspect was so beautifully grand. 
The game so plentiful, the air so sweet, 
Clear water near, and shelter from the heat. 
They reasoned that to make it more complete, 

A house of logs would be more safe and sure 
From sudden storms, beside, for comfort, too; 

For in those wilds a tent will not endure 
The sometime storms that sweep those valleys through. 
The house was finished neat and snug within. 
Stone cooking-place, too, sleeping-bunks therein. 

And so it happened at that very time 
The weather did turn stormy for awhile, 
And nature for our hunters failed to smile. 
That pleasantly they might the time beguile, 

They had recourse to somewhat varying tales. 

Some lively song, or read some pleasing rhyme — 

Enjoyment from such sources seldom fails. 
'Twas early afternoon of that dull day; 

A venison haunch was roasting at the fire; 
The dogs sought quiet from their morning play, 

Their wistful looks bespeaking keen desire 
To share the savory meal preparing there. 

And when the feast was o'er and cleared away. 
Both men and dogs, regaled with plenteous fare, 

The mules fast tethered, so they could not stray, 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

Then was the ample pipe and weed to cheer 
Brought forth, while all did circle close about; 

Thus all within was snug, and evening near. 
When Alfred's voice in joyous song rang out. 



ALFRED'S SONG. 

"/""^HEER boys! cheer! though night is near, 
v.^ The clouds will pass, the sky will clear! 
Then when the morning sun is up, 
We'll quaff from Nature's crystal cup, 
Partake of hunter' s simple fare. 
And breathe the health- inspiring air. 
That adds a joy when from each tramp. 
The hunters gather at their camp. 

Then cheer, boys cheer! What soul should fear 

The tempest's wrath, though sweeping near! 

For when the morning dawns again. 

The vales will smile refreshed by rain; 

Like diamonds sparkling in the light. 

The showers will gem their verdure bright; 

Then forth all merrily we'll go. 

To chase the fleet, wild mountain roe." 

The song did raise their youthful spirits' glow. 

And for a while, in turn, each sang a song; 
Thus passed the pleasant hours in genial flow. 

And all was bright that happy few among; 
Then as the lengthening shades of evening fell, 

The mountain air grew chill and damp, 
The knotty pine was lit, and answered well 

The purpose of a cheerful fire and lamp; 



125 



126 TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

They circled near its warm and pleasant light, 

As William Brown began a truthful tale, 
In fact none there did mark the hours' quick flight 
Who heard, or cared to note the rising gale. 



WILLIAM BROWN'S TALE. 

" TN DAYS gone by, you all have often asked of me, 

1 What cause of strong, abiding friendship there could be 
Between my cousin Jenny Lisle and Arthur Wright. 
Listen; until a month ago this present night, 
I did not know the details of that strange event. 
That ' round their lives a halo of romance hath lent. 

You all remember well, but one short year ago. 
That Arthur then compared with any that we know, 
In health and perfect form most favorably so; 
He only lacked in purse, to be a favored one. 
His mother was a widow, he an only son; 
Studying for the law was up-hill work for him — 
Without sufficient cash, the prospect looked most grim. 

You saw sweet Jenny at our house a month ago. 
Just after she was married, as all of you do know. 
You marveled much that she so lovely and so bright. 
Should mate with one deformed in body and in sight, 
Caused by disastrous fate on that eventful night — 
I mean the Richmond fire, where others lost a life. 
'Twas through that sad event that Alfred won his wife. 

It -happened that Miss Jenny then had just returned 
To Buffalo, the day before the hotel burned. 
And with her mother and a cousin there did stop. 
That cousin was a favored suitor, though a fop. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 27 

From the hour of that disaster came a change — 
Though he was very wealthy, do not deem it strange — 
For he proved a coward when the trial came; 
But Alfred risked his life to save him all the same. 
I'll read some verses, I did write that very time; 
For I was much concerned, and did express in rhyme, 
My thoughts and observations of that dire event. 
That had so much of fear and horror with it blent." 



BURNING OF THE HOTEL RICHMOND. 

BUFFALO, N. Y,, MARCH, 1887. 

" T^HAT time the wind was high, 
1 When on the storm-swept sky, 
Was seen a fitful glare, 
Too, from each window there. 
Boding disaster dire, 
Of fire! fire! fire! 
'Twas the Richmond all on fire! 

The flames did soon illume. 
Lit up the nightly gloom. 
Rolling on, the billows fierce, 
Up through the roof did pierce; 
Fiery sparks did mount and fly 
Very high! high! high! 
From the Richmond all on fire! 

The fierce flames cracked and roared. 
Dense smoke from windows poured. 



1 28 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

And then, O God! was seen 
Human forms like spectres gleam, 
' Midst smoke and flames between, 
They did scream ! scream ! scream ! 
In the Richmond all on fire! 

Oh, who could help them there ? 
The people everywhere 
Were powerless while it blazed; 
They sorely were amazed, 
By horror stunned and dazed. 
As they gazed! gazed! gazed! 
At the Richmond all on fire! 

Only Alfi-ed stirred; 
'Twas Jenny's voice he heard 
There at a window speak, 
Then rang a piercing shriek, 
Whilst near her flame and smoke 
Bursting broke! broke! broke! 
From the Richmond all on fire! 

Oh, well that voice he knew. 
Up-stairs he quickly flew; 
He hastened to her side. 
To rescue and to guide. 
Whilst flames did curl and twist, 
Fiercely hissed! hissed! hissed! 
In the Richmond all on fire! " 

"When Alfred reached the room where both were then 
confined. 
Her mother on the floor all senseless there reclined; 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 29 

Jenny told him of her cousin in a room near by, 

On whom she called for help but who ignored her cry. 

He found him cowering there, prostrated by great fear. 
But roused and helped him to an open window near, 
At which a ladder had been raised by those without 
To save, whilst the great crowd without with hopefulness 

did shout; 
Two sturdy firemen quickly made their way within; 
One bore the mother out and down amidst the din; 
The other guiding John, her cousin, in his clasp; 
Holding him all safely there with powerful grasp; 
'Midst loud applause they, too, had nearly reached the 

ground. 
When the frail ladder broke with loud and crashing sound; 
But yet the lower portion he was on was held 
In part by many there, as down it slid and fell. 
John was slighdy hurt— the fireman not at all — 
But others there within were periled by its fall — 
Cut off from outer aid, 'twas useless more to call — 
So Alfred still undaunted, with Jenny wrapped about. 
Through stifling smoke and flames made good his way 
without." 

' ' Yes, then he quickly fled, 
Down through the flames he sped; 
And Jenny all unharmed, 
Though very much alarmed. 
Was carried out with care, 
In safety to the air. 
From the Richmond all on fire. 

But Alfred, faint and worn, 
His clothing scorched and torn, 



I30 TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

All singed his beard and hair, 
Sadly burned everywhere, 
Regained at last the door, 
The outer door once more, 
From the. Richmond all on fire. ' ' 



" They all but Alfred soon recoved from their fright; 
You saw the dire result to him from that dread night 
Of fire; a long and tedious illness followed, too, 
But Jenny kindly soothed and 'tended him all through; 
And when at last he raised from of his bed of pain, 
She urged that by his side she always should remain. 
What need to wonder then that one so sweet and fair. 
Should love with pure affection, devotioti true and rare, 
That seared and crippled one, an object oft of pain, 
Who when in health's fair bloom, had sought that love 
in vain." 

All there approved the tale, admired the worth. 
That is so rarely found upon this earth. 

Sweet Jenny in her distant, city home, 
So happy in the tender thoughts that come 
To recompense, where sympathy bestows 
A feehng heart where gratitude o'erfiows. 
Ne'er dreamt that in that wild, her story told. 
Had won such deep regard from every soul. 

Then Robert said, ' ' I think the world, or those 
Who in it live, are not as some suppose. 
Or many do aver, all wholly bad; 
Your tale doth thus much show. Myself can add 
Some evidence that truth doth still exist, 
And virtue, too, I ever shall insist. 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

So, that the time may profit us awhile, 
'Till Morpheus doth each wearied sense beguile, 
Or, till the storm doth somewhat more abate, 
I will a story of love's faith relate." 



ROBERT'S TALE OF TRUE LOVE. 

YOUNG Harry of this tale is one 
Who holds a kindly place among 
My earliest friends and thoughts of home, 
Ere circumstances bade me roam. 
Bright, manly, and with talents, too. 
Of disposition kind and true. 
Honest and faithful to the few 
Firm friends his early manhood knew. 

We, too, were bound by many a tie 
That kindred likes and tastes imply, 
And friendship's bond from boyish years. 
That close companionship endears. 
In confidence one summer day. 
He told me in his artless way, 
Youth-like, with candor, did impart, 
What high ambition fired his heart. 

'Twas this, — he loved sweet Alice Grey — 
In fact they were engaged that day, 
By plighted vows of faith and truth. 
To love for aye, through life in sooth. 
'Love's tide ne'er did run smooth,' 'tis said, 
At least ere many days had sped, 



131 



132 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

They found the proverb did hold true, 
And brought a time of trials, too. 

Old lawyer Grey would not consent; 

Neither had her mother lent 

Her favor to our Harry's suit; 

Her brothers were opposed, to boot; 

For all were rich, and scorned in truth. 

Alliance which they deemed in sooth 

Uuequal, so could not endure, 

To think she'd wed with one so poor. 

' Oh! what a tangled web we weave 
When first we practice to deceive! ' 
And so found hard, old lawyer Grey, 
Who sent sweet Alice far away 
To dwell in foreign lands; consigned 
To an old spinster aunt, confined 
And watched on every hand alway — 
No wonder that she pined away! 

Denied all correspondence, she 
In vain did seek with earnest plea, 
To move the heart of her stern aunt; 
The sole reply was constant taunt, 
' Of how her family's dignity. 
Was compromised by villany 
Of subtle craft to win her hand; 
Thus sever from their family band.' 

So quite discouraged e'er again, 

To move as friend, her pleadings vain, 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 33 

In wild despair she flew away, 
Preferring 'midst the world to stray. 
The rector's humble home she sought; 
Her tale upon his mind so wrought, 
That of a cherished, lady friend. 
Besought that she some aid would lend, 

To shelter till events should prove, 
The honor of her chosen love; 
So corresponding, sought again 
To make the past events all plain. 
Meanwhile young Harry, much depressed. 
Was through the lawyer's wiles harrassed, 
Who plotted darkly to defame, 
And brand him with a felon's name. 

Dependent on his daily toil, 

In vain he strove and sought to foil 

The lawyer's schemes, who had many spies. 

Lurking near in deep disguise. 

Well paid to blast that fateful time. 

Our hero with dark rankling crime. 

Who shame and infamy endured, 

And soon in prison was immured. 

When Alice heard what fate befell 
Her lover, and his fame as well, 
She did not for a moment shun 
Or doubt the worth her love had won; 
Returning with the friends she'd found, 
She hastened to the prison's bound. 
Sought out her love, explained at last, 
The trials of the troubled past. 



134 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

She did not doubt his truth or worth, 

Rejected thoughts of honor's dearth, 

Suspected the relentless source 

Of villany's insidious course. 

Indignantly the lovely maid, 

Of friends then finding timely aid. 

Investigated every source, 

And charge of his long trial's course, 

Discovered the false witness who 
Had sworn to acts that were untrue; 
And traced e'en to her father, facts 
That proved him guilty of base acts. 
Thus Harry cleared from every charge. 
Through aid, soon found himself at large, 
His honor freed from every stain, 
And prospering in his home again. 

They married, and her faithful heart, 
Did ne'er regret the earnest part, 
The deep instinctive sense of truth, 
That filled her soul with trust in sooth. 
Remorse consumed old lawyer Grey, 
Repentifig died, so passed away 
Bequeathing much of wordly gain, 
To recompense the past of pain. 

Sweet Alice now is Mrs. Lowe 

Whom all of you perchance must know; 

And Harry, now those trials past 

That once his lot had overcast. 

Rejoices in the happy fate. 

That gave a true and loving mate; 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

Thus pure devotion's recompense, 
Is love, regard, and joy intense." 

" Well, I'm glad that right prevailed, 
And that the tyrant father failed 
In his vile scheme of pride and hate. 
To blast with wrong those lovers' fate," 
Cried Jack, ^<'hilst trying to disguise, 
That drowsiness oppressed his eyes. 

Then Robert yawning, owned 'twas best, 
To seek in peaceful slumber rest, 
So piled anew the sinking fire. 
Lest ere the morn its flames expire; 
The blazing pine-knots threw their glare. 
In every nook and corner there; 
The dogs curled near its cheerful glow. 
Watched every movement to and fro. 
The time had sped in rapid flight; 
Till far advanced into the night. 
Young Edwin on his buffalo rug, 
Then long oblivious lay all snug; 
Whilst Johnson in his bunk had crept, 
O'erpowered by Morpheus soundly slept. 
The others, too, did own his spell. 
Prepared to seek sweet sleep as well; 
John ope'd the massive rustic door, 
To view the aspect round once more; 
The storm still raged, the wind was high. 
And cloulds obscured the landscape nigh. 

Just then they heard a cry ring out, 
A hound's long howl, then a loud shout; 
The dog s alert, quick answering, too. 
Through the open portals flew. 



135 



136 TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

Our hunters roused did quickly spring, 
And seize their guns from off the sUng; 
Then round, each object keenly scanned, 
All near the camp on every hand; 
The dogs were heard in furious cry; 
Then, all a tall gaunt form did spy, 
Swifdy approaching through the gloom; 
He entered in that cabin room. 
And sunk exhausted on the floor — 
His dog the while crouched at the door. 
Their own dogs, too, were whimpering near, 
All entering whined as if in fear. 

The buskined stranger rousing, spoke — 
His startling words in terror broke; 
" Make fast the door! 'tis wolves! they come! 
Pack on pack they swiftly come! " 
Quickly to the door they sprung; 
E' en while its ponderous weight they swung. 
Two huge gray wolves did leap between. 
Whilst round a countless pack was seen. 
They quickly killed the two held fast, 
Then out each mangled carcass cast. 
Made fast with bolt and bar the door, 
Then viewed the scene outside once more. 
From openings 'twixt the logs, on high. 
Midst gloom of night, dim prowling night, 
They saw the wolves, vast numbers there, 
Howling, yelping everywhere: 
Their struggling mules they quickly tore. 
And still seemed hungry as before. 

When the dark storm-clouds rolled away, 
And twilight streaked the east with gray. 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 



137 



Our hunters from their hold on high, 

Could see to shoot the prowlers nigh: 

They poured a sure destructive fire, 

And saw the brutes around expire. 

But not until the sun was high, 

All brightly glowing in the sky, 

Was it deemed safe to sally out, 

To put the savage beasts to rout. 

Then two, their keen-edged axes bore. 

The rest with rifles went before; 

The dogs, too, sought an active part — 

Right at the wolves did fiercely dart, 

Whilst the strange hunter fearless led. 

Those remaining quickly fled. 

Leaving over two score slain, 

Too, many wounded writhed in pain. 

They, too, were killed, then all were skinned. 

Made fast to dry securely pinned; 

The carcasses in a huge pit, 

Where buried as was deemed most fit; 

Then wearied with their work and fray, 

They rested till another day. 

'Twas mom, and when our hunters' meal was 

cleared away. 
Whilst all reclined beneath an oak's deep shade that 

day. 
The stranger much refreshed, his hunger satisfied. 
When of his own adventures questioned, thus 

replied. 



1 38 TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

THE HUNTER'S STORY. 

" /~\UR camp is on yon distant mountain's side, 
V_y Close where this fertile valley opening wide, 
Blends with the prairie that spreads afar, 
E'en to the horizon's verging bar: 
There we have lodged full many days gone by, 
As we supposed without a neighbor nigh. 
My comrades, chums, or partners, as you choose, 
Or may be pleased to term them, will hear the news 
With pleasure of your sojourn in this vale. 
And wonder at last night's adventurous tale; 
For we have seldom seen a gray wolf near, 
Nor deemed them numerous, or cause for fear — 
It was the game we killed and left, no doubt. 
That drew them to these parts to prowl about. 
* ' We are but three — myself, James Furguson, 
Geologist and miner, and Charles Dunn. 
All three of us are out prospecting 'round, 
For a rich vein that Furguson had found. 
But failed to mark with sure enduring care. 
Last summer whilst alone prospecting there. 
' ' Yestermorn whilst Dunn did keep the camp, 
Furguson and myself went out to tramp. 
To try our luck each took a different way; 
And I had wandered far, till late that day; 
All unsuccessful in my arduous search, 
I threw myself beneath a spreading birch 
To rest, and slaked my thirst at a small spring. 
O'er which that tree a cooling shade did fling; 
'Twas then I first perceived two wolves spring out 
From some near brush, whilst others prowled about 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 1 39 

Afar. I shot those two, when drawing near, 

Some score or more pressed closely without fear; 

Again I fired, but found they still increased. 

And pressed more near with howls that never ceased. 

This happened on the valley's further side; 

And deeming it mere folly there to bide. 

With hasty steps made for our sheltering camp: 

I knew 'twas then a long and dubious tramp. 

After, that great storm arose and night drew near; 

Following, my dog clung close in fear. 

Just then I saw your light from far gleam out — 

' Twas then inspired with hope you heard me shout — 

'Twas well your camp was near — they pressed right 

hard — 
Beside the darkness, too, did much retard, 
For I had lost my way in that wild race, 
And wandered long. But I must now away. 
Return to camp and friends without delay; 
Recount to them my dread adventures here, 
For they no doubt are anxious or in fear; 
So for a time I'll bid you all adieu, 
But hope this kind acquaintance to renew." 

They did accept his invitation to return 
His visit, and more fully of their plans to learn; 
And so, when early morn had dawned again all bright, 
And the fair landscape smiled once more in golden light, 
Four of those hunters well prepared for their long tramp, 
Did hasten on, all eager then to reach that neighbor- 
ing camp. 
'Twas afternoon when they did reach its forest bound; 
Those hunters waiting there did press kind greetings 
'round — 



140 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 

Discussed the chances of their anxious search at length, 
And then proposed they should unite their strength. 
So all returned to that well-chosen vale, 
Because inducements of its great advantage did prevail 
To thus decide their choice — beside, the house was 

strong, 
More safe than a frail tent, should they abide there long. 

When several days had passed, then all prepared and 
planned, 
They sallied out to search those hills on every hand; 
But guided by the notes that Furguson had made, 
When first he had explored and mapped that golden 
glade. 

Full many days they pried in every secret place; 
But of that precious vein could find no guiding trace, 
Until, as Johnson was returning to the camp 
One evening, wearied with the day's long fruitless tramp. 
He took a shorter cut down a steep valley's side; 
He chanced to loose a rock, when in its bed he spied 
A crevice, and, too, traces of it having been 
Discovered long before. Examined, there were seen 
Upon more close inspection, many of the signs 
That Furguson described by note in written lines. 
Then, much elated by success, he hastened back. 
But marked the spot with care, that he might nothing 

lack 
In finding it again. When all were gathered 'round 
In camp at evening time, he told them what he'd found. 
It did excite them much, and all but two, resolved 
To sally forth at dawn and have the question solved. 

So when the morn had streaked the east with 
ruddy light. 
Each hunter was prepared to scale that rocky height, 



TALES OF ADVENTURE. 



141 



Armed, and equipped with necessary tools to clear 
The way around and all the cumbering debris near. 
They found the spot with ease, and cleared the portal 

wide, 
Then entering with lit torches viewed the cave inside; 
They found on close inspection nuggets everywhere, 
And auriferous ore past all their hopes was there. 

Then, as the day was nearly gone, returned once 
more 
To camp — deciding that at early morn, before 
It chance that others should usurp their mining claim, 
They would return, make there a camp, and so remain. 

And so within three days, close by the mine they'd 
found. 
They built a larger house, and claimed the land around; 
And organized the mining claim of Furguson. 

Their great discovery decided every one 
To dispense awhile with pastime in the line 
Of hunting, and devote their efforts to the mine; 
To get machinery, to open that rich lode, 
To build, and work the mine in proper mode. 

And when some years had passed in busy thrift away. 
Other mines were found, and many came to stay. 
An active, prosperous town was ranged that valley 

through. 
The lodes proved rich, so still that mining city grew: 
Our youthful hunters soon grew rich in lands and 

stocks. 
And 'round, those lovely vales were dotted with their 

flocks. 
Who saw, might gready wonder at the sudden change 
And transformation in that once wild, mountain range, 



142 



TALES OF AD VENTURE. 

That formerly had proved prolific in its game, 
But the richness of its mines have added greater fame, 
Those lucky hunters now are settled in that place, 
Made rich by chance — fit sequel to their boyish chase — 
And often still recount the story of their tramp. 
And show the very place they first did pitch their 
camp. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



143 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



FAITH'S SWEET TRUST. 

This poem was composed whilst being greatly impressed from 
reading Captain Mason's narrative of a singular event that occurred 
on his fifth and last voyage to the Arctic Seas on a whaling voyage. 

He says: — " On the 5th of September, the sky, which had been 
clear until two o'clock A. M., suddenly became overcast, the barom- 
eter falling rapidly. I ordered the sails to be close reefed, and 
everything to be made snug on deck, but before we could rouse all 
hands a storm burst upon us, unusually severe even for those 
stormy seas. The sails were torn away, the vessel was thrown on 
her beam ends, the mainmast went by the board when she righted, 
but was found to be leaking badly, so all hands were called away 
to the pumps. 

"The greatest confusion and consternation prevailed, as the 
fury of the storm increased continually until we had lost all control 
of the vessel. The rudder having been unshipped, she was tossed 
at the mercy of the waves, and we expected to go down each 
moment. 

"Suddenly, Emmeline, my first mate's daughter, who, with his 
wife and one other lady, were the only women on board, siezed a 
cross that was in the cabin, and before we could intercept her, made 
up the companionway. How she managed to keep her feet I 
cannot tell. But, with a wild light in her eye, the cross raised high, 
she poured forth an earnest appeal to God for help. I rushed aft 
to restrain her, as I feared she would be swept overboard, when by 
the time I had reached her the storm began to subside, and, 
remarkable as it may seem, very soon passed away." — Page 220, 
Capt. Mason's Voyages to the Arctic Seas. 



ALL pent within the northern frigid zone, 
An ice-clad isle is anchored all alone, 
Near where the Pole in solemn grandeur stands 
Firm fixed, far from the shore of happier lands, 



144 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

On which a mountain rears his lofty head, 
With snows of ceaseless winter on him shed; 
His bowels all caverned lead a lengthened way 
Where light was never known; no, not a single ray. 
Such is the rendezvous, the horrid home, 
The mighty spirits of the air do own. 

Reigns there chief one of all, old Northern Blast, 
Whose dynasty was first, and will be last; 
He, much like other tyrants, reigns through fear — 
A conqueror still where e'er he doth appear; 
And shivering mortals long have learned to dread 
When Winter comes to spread his snowy bed, 
Proclaiming to the habitable sphere, 
The mighty monarch then is very near. 

Of all the other spirits who there dwell, 
Some very good and others not so well. 
Not least is Whirling Wind, he of dizzy head. 
Who to the altar Breezy Freshness led; 
There peer to many a mighty chief is Storm ; 
There, too, dwells Gale, all vigorous of form; 
And all the whole wild family of Squalls, 
Who that vast, dreadful cavern fill with brawls. 

Explorers rash, had sought the realm of Blast, 
And roused to ire the vengeful king at last, 
Who borealis flamed along the sky. 
To warn his subjects of invasion nigh; 
Each chief was summoned to his cavern home. 
And ranged by rank within that ice-clad dome. 
All upper air's mad howling crew were there. 
In council met some mischief to prepare. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 145 

Loud voices sounded through the depths within, 

A fearful tumult and tremendous din. 

All was resolved — that dreadful conclave done, 

When from the cave they issued every one; 

Fierce Boreas then, air marshal o'er the rest, 

Soared high above, fantastically dressed 

In cloudy robes whose sombre length extended, 

All past the line where icy seas contended; 

Away, away, in swift career they went, 

'Midst blinding mists, where hail and rain were blent. 

On, near unto the confines of Greenland, 

To where the open ocean's waves expand. 

A gallant bark sailed o'er that boundless deep. 
Whose crew, save those who watched, were wrapped 

in sleep; 
Majestic thing! that swept along her way. 
Rich freighted with fond hopes of mortal clay; 
How strong, and yet how frail was that small shell. 
To venture on those wastes where spirits dwell! 

Not heard, nor heeded was that ominous sound. 
Like rushing wings that filled the air around! 
What tongue could warn, what guiding hand could 

save 
Them from destruction by the angry wave, 
When that mad crew, on hellish mischief bent, 
Swooped full upon that craft in sheer descent! 
'Twas tossed on wave, in deep abyss was hurled, 
'Midst where the hissing waters seethed and curled; 
Her fate decreed within that island home, 
No further should those luckless wanderers roam. 

H 



146 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Oh, what could human strength or skill avail ? 
What helm can guide where fiends of air prevail ? 

Then who had been that storm-tossed bark within, 
Had witnessed the despairing woe of sin; 
The pure with calmness saw disaster lower — 
Such hearts control the weak in peril's hour. 
One soul exceeding all the others there 
In faith, a holy maid, knelt down in prayer. 
Beseeching guidance from a higher source. 
Almighty aid to quell each spirit force. 
Her soul inspired, that lovely child of grace. 
The way unto the upper-deck did trace, 
Cried, with symbol of her faith raised high — 
" O God, our Father! help us or we die! " 

Nor was that prayer of pleading faith in vain. 
For soon those angry waves were still again; 
With howl each fiendish spirit shrank and cowered. 
Fleeing, when the Almighty's anger lowered. 
Thus innocence and virtue dwell secure, 
If sacred Faith's sweet trust be planted sure. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 147 



INTELLECTUAL POWERS. 

WIZARD. 

THE mind of man hath powers all strange, 
Through space unlimited to range, 
Mysterious and terrible. 
To many mortals wonderful; 
Exploring still in unknown fields. 
Each source whence fruitful knowledge yields 
Its ever-treasured recompense. 
That thrills and wakes that glowing sense. 

This night shall be a lasting test. 
To try the might of its unrest; 
Here where the moon doth light this vale. 
Where solemn silence doth prevail, 
I'll draw my magic circle round. 
As safeguard or sublunary bound, 
All whilst this hour of deep midnight. 
Doth favor it, this test of might. 
I do not doubt the mystic power. 
Inherited as special dower; 
But will my spirit cower and sink. 
From the foul contact shuddering shrink ? 

I venture, trusting to expose 
The subtile nature of man's foes 
More clearly for their lasting good; 
For evil, rightly understood. 
All bared by reason's testing might, 
Will be abhorred, and put to flight 



148 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

The lurking, wicked, luring fiends. 
Who hale us even in our dreams. 

Heavenly powers my spirit guiding. 
Faith within my bosom biding, 
I here will cast my potent spell, 
Thus bring each fiend fi^om deepest hell; 
Transcribe the story of their hate. 
As each in turn shall then relate. 

Now whilst this magic circle burns, 
All flaming high above yon ferns. 
These quiet depths I'll make resound. 
Waking the slumbering echoes round. 
With my compelling call. 
Now Heaven guard! prevent my fall! 

What ho! ye spirits doomed to roam. 
The Plutonian shore thy awful home. 
Return from whence ye now do wander! 
Haste! haste! nor pause ye long to ponder! 
Obey the mystic power of verse, 
That sure controls e'en thy fell curse! 

Ha! my compelling voice they know! 
They come, they come, 'tis surely so! 
By Heaven, 'tis a ghastly crew! 
This proves my powerful spell all true! 
See how they cower, advancing start, 
O'ermastered by my wonderous art! 
Gaunt-eyed, all leperous and wan, 
The loathsome host comes trooping on! 

Hold! ye condemned for sinfulness! 
No waiting voice is here to bless! 
Ye hellish things all venomous! 
Damned things all vilely trecherous! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Compelled, ye must answering tell 
What doomed ye to a torturing hell! 
That answer graven full and free, 
Recorded shall grave warning be; 
Then back to punishment return, 
Where earth's lost souls in torment bum! 
Stand thou ! that leading greets our sight. 
Returned perforce to earth this night! 
Her baleful glance doth pierce me through — 
Speak of thyself or special crew, 
Then to each fellow-ghost give room! 
What sinful acts have caused thy doom ? 

ENTER SLANDER. 

" Mortal, compelled I answer thee! 
I'm Slander! sure thou knowest me? 
Doomed perdition's lodes to see. 
But legion is my progeny; 
And well, right well, I've taught them how, 
To vilify each manly brow. 
To tear the vail from modesty, 
To blacken virgin purity, 
Grossly defame each wifely dame, 
To fill their hearts with fear and shame; 
Ha! ha! 'tis jovial to relate! 
None can escape the slimy fate!" 

WIZARD. 

Thou hateful, ruthless, gibbering thing. 
Men's curses ever round thee cling! 



149 



150 MISCELLANEOUS POMMS. 

Back to thy punishment return! 

May hell's dread flames still round thee burn! 

SLANDER, 

" I'll go, I'll go, at thy command! 
I must obey thy stern command! 
But ha! ha! ha! on every hand, 
My progeny doth fill the land! 
And ho! ho! ho! right well I know, 
They'll wreak revenge if I must go!" 

WIZARD. 

Hence! get thee gone thou shameless hag! 
I bid thee go, nor lingering lag! 

Exit Slander. 
Intemperance draws near. 

Heavenly Powers! sure this is he — 
That monstrous one, of emnity 

So fatefuUy disastrous, 

So fraught with wrong, and treacherous 

To mortal happiness, that now 

Doth come. False wretch, thy deeds avow! 

1 know thee by thy visaged hate! 

I know thee by thy staggering gait! 

INTEMPERANCE. 

" Ho! ho! weak mortal! say you so? 
'Tis true my traffic is in woe. 
But why should Virtue mar me so ? 
For mortal, see what bounties flow, 
Where commerce in our traffic thrives. 
To bless each city's teeming hives: 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 151 

Why, everything doth something mar! 
E'en the elect will sometimes war. 
And there's a sting none can escape, 
That poisons love I could relate; 
So prithee master, speak me fair! 
Sure, what I do doth kill dull care. 
What if my luring toils cling sure, 
And hold with bonds that will endure! 
I scatter pleasures by the way, 
To hide the horrors of decay; 
So mortals deem me passing fair, 
And cultivate my kind with care. 
Thus, though I'm doomed to roam the shore, 
Our tribe could spare a million more; 
Then would my agents fill the land; 
Why they increase on every hand! 
Their signs are swung to every breeze. 
Sure Rum's gay portals seem to please! 
Ho! ho! we thrive, we prosper still! 
And soon perdition's space we'll fill! 
We hate the fools of mortal race, 
So round their souls our toils do trace; 
Their boasting tongues but prove conceit, 
So for their pains they'll know defeat; 
Ho! ho! the game goes bravely on. 
And Rum! Rum! Rum! hath ever won! 
My minions stock the lodes of hell! 
They ply their arts right sure and well! 
' ' Think not all victims are the base. 
The low and vicious of thy race, 
For kings and statesmen swell the throng — 
Earth's mightiest are borne along — 



152 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

And if you wish I'll lead the way, 
Where some-time saints do howling stay; 
I'll show where scores of poets roam, 
Midst the lost souls of that fell home; 
Ha! ha! all writhe in anguish there; 
They wail, they wail in sin's despair; 
Their eyes do glare from direst pain; 
They plead, ho! ho! but plead in vain!" 

WIZARD. 

Oh, that I had the power to forge 
For thee dire fetters, or could scourge 
Thee, orbless vileness, to some void! 

Would I could stay the poor decoyed! 
How would my soul rejoicing shout. 
To triumph in this demon's rout! 
But weak and futile are my powers. 
And sadness o' er my spirit lowers. 
At the visioned picture of distress; 
Its horrors do my soul oppress; 
And well, right well, I know it true. 
For friends of mine have suffered, too. 

Thou hateful, pregnant source of ill ! 
Luring frail man to ruin still. 
Blasting domestic bliss and weal, 
All direful with no soul to feel. 
What sorrows all thy ways do bring! 
What miseries round thee ever cling! 
Oh, get thee gone! My heart doth ache! 
How timid innocence must quake, 
When thy mistrustful presence stalks. 
Endangering paths where virtue walks! 



MISCELLANEO US POEMS. 1 5 3 

God! thy hand alone can save 

Weak man from Rum's dishonoring grave! 

Still! still! dost thou lingering stay, 
Leering? Hence! from my sight away! 

INTEMPERANCE. 

" I go, I go, at thy command! 

1 must obey thy stern command! 
But ha! ha! ha! on every hand, 
My countless agents fill the land; 
And ho! ho! ho! right well I know, 
They'll wreak revenge if I must go!" 

WIZARD. 

Oh heartless! diabolical! 
Remorseless and so terrible! 
I bid thee, thou cursed essence, go! 
Nor longer grin thy triumph so! 

Exit Intemperance. 

Burn! burn! preserving circle burn! 
This waxeth hot! I feel concern 
Whelming o'er my spirit, as on 
These ireful phantoms crowd, so wan 
Their aspect. How threatening he 
In van of all the rest! I'll see 
If still my powerful spell holds sway — 
Sternly questioning, I'll bid him stay. 

Hold, there! thou portent grimly vast, 
With gloom of hell all vaguely cast 
Athwart thy dreadful frame gigantic! 
Cease those actions all so frantic! 



154 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Unfold the past and what thou art; 
Then to thy direful home depart! 
Eriter Robber. 

ROBBER. 

" Though I've obeyed thy magic might, 
That bid me trace my way this night, 
Through dismal wastes to greet thy sight. 
Think not I'll cower to thee in fright, 
Although I've come at thy command, 
In answer to thy stern demand! 

' ' I here avow, my kith and kin 
Are robbers — such have ever been! 
Know, too, I'm father of their host. 
The chief they've ever honored most! 
Long pent where caverned depths extend. 
Where the fumed flames of hell ascend. 

"Think not my hosts do languish now; 
That they increase why all avow! 
That times have changed, I know full well: 
Time was of old, as I can tell. 
When we stood bravely to might's test; 
Then courage served our purpose best. 
But now there's many of our kind. 
Whose cunning serves them best they find; 
They rob by tact, they rob by rule, 
They shape the law to catch each fool; 
They're crafty, sharp and active, too; 
Such are the lawyers of our crew. 
Think not we're all such sneaking knaves; 
They're of the tribe that rob men's graves. 

" My line is noble, mightier far — 
Conquerors we who rob by war 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 155 

We burn, we kill, forsooth destroy; 
Ho! 'tis a game that we enjoy! 
Rich spoil of treasure, cities, land. 
Nations have fallen to our hand! 
We've robbed the patriot of each right, 
We've piled the slain to gain the fight, 
We've burned the peasant's humble cot, 
We've bound to slavery's joyless lot 
Each conquered tribe, wives, maids, and all, 
Where e'er our mighty power did fall! 

* ' Why ! robber monarchs shared the spoil, 
And steeped in gore the fruitful soil, 
When Poland groaned at her hard fate. 
Planned by those thieves of high estate. 

" Know, lusty robbers do abound, 
'Tis seldom honest men are found; 
E'en that rare few must soon succumb, 
When worldly greed makes preachers dumb. 
Great statesmen oft are robbers, too! 
They legislate to serve our crew; 
Whilst loudly shouting for reform, 
To blind the robbed who sadly mourn. 
They blandly smile and line their nest, 
Which proves that stealing pays the best; 
Whilst patriot scholars true and ripe. 
Are thought most odd, of dubious stripe. 

" We're found among the high and low. 
Where e'er you look, where e'er you go! 

" Now, if you wish, I'll tales relate — 
I'll prove our crew of good estate — " 

WIZARD. 

Enough! enough! thou sol eless shade! 
I bid thee cease thy vile tirade! 



156 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Go, get thee back from whence thou came, 
Thou wrong- doer — so robed in shame! 

ROBBER. 

" I go, I go, at thy command! 
I must obey thy stern command! 
But ha! ha! ha! on every hand. 
We teem, we swarm o'er all the land! 
So ho ! ho ! ho ! right well I know. 
They'll flourish still, if I must go! " 



Exit Robber. 



WIZARD. 



My spirit sinks — all faint my hope, 
Knowing the perils mortals cope 
With still, in struggling for a high 
Future. Well may the pure soul sigh! 
Enter Murder. 

Ha! this is Murder! terrible, 
Menacing and horrible, 
Who comes, his bony hand raised high. 
Fire flashing from each orbless eye, 
All reeking with the fumes of hell ! 

Hold, fiend! thy master bids thee tell 
Thy deeds — thy hateful story's sequence; 
Then take thy dreadful presence hence! 

MURDER. 

"At thy command I come, vile clay! 
What though I dare not say thee nay. 
Or cannot now thy spell gainsay, 
Not long thou' It welcome Murder's stay; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 157 

For thee, nor thine hath power to quell 
Our lawless crew by force or spell! 

"Although I'm doomed to hold my way, 
Where the accurst of earth do stay, 
Think not my race doth end with me, 
For endless is my dynasty! 

"What if the hangman choke a few; 
They're but the lambs of Murder's crew! 
The veterans of our flock stalk forth, 
In fellowship with mortal worth. 
Ho! ho! we are Death's harvesters! 
And mighty are the murderers! 
And well the mortal crop we reap! 
We pile in winrows heap by heap. 
Good patriots to their country true! 
And wives and maids there's many, too! 
Not all are stabbers of the night, 
For kings are comrades of our might. 
Ordained were they for butchers, too; 
Why! they're the flower of all our crew! 
And then there's those accounted saints 
On earth; they, freed from law's restraints. 
Thrive still, live well, and swell our throng. 
They've plied the trade both well and long; 
The fiercest of our host are they; 
E'en Innocence they'd burn or slay. 

"Just now of law's restraints I spoke — 
'Twas not intended for a joke. 
Though it might seem so, in this sense — 
Our allies oft the laws dispense. 
For think how Jeffreys led the way. 
Judicially to rob and slay; 



158 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

And despots, they're above the law; 
For judges soon can find a flaw, 
For Tyranny's conveniency — 
So cover all discrepancy. 

" 'Tis fact! we dwell in every place; 
We teem, we swarm o'er earth's broad face; 
We're hurried, hurried to and fro; 
We're ever, ever, on the go; 
Of slaughtered victims we want more; 
We thirst, we thirst for human gore; 
Blood, blood alone can quench our hate! 
Ho! ho! what more shall I relate? " 

WIZARD. 

Hence! lest with pains I thee pursue! 
Thy fearful tale is all too true! 
My very soul is wrung with fear! 
Begone, I say! hence! disappear! 

MURDER. 

" I go, I go, at thy command! 
I must obey thy stern command! 
But, ha! ha! ha! on every hand, 
My dynasty doth fill the land! 
So ho! ho! ho! right well I know, 
I'll be revenged if I must go! " 



Exit Murder. 



WIZARD. 



Great God! see where they crowd along! 
Surely 'tis hell's whole hateful throng! 
Damned jibbering things, avaunt! avaunt! 
By Heaven! the whole broad space they haunt! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

It doth exceed what I had thought! 

How surely hath my magic wrought! 

I cannot, will not hear them more! 

Back! back! hell- doomed, to the dread shore! 

ALL THE DEMONS TOGETHER. 

"We came, we came at thy command! 
Compelled we go at thy command! 
But, ha! ha! ha! on every hand, 
Our agents thrive in every land! 
So ho! ho! ho! right well we know, 
We'll be revenged if we must go! " 

Exeunt Demons. 

WIZARD. 

Speed on, nor jibing pause to leer! — 
My soul is gloomed with gathered fear! 
There, as they to their dread home go, 
Oh, well each fearful shade I know; 
Repenting now, regret the power 
That rashly called what bids me cower. 
Ne'er will I list me more to things 
So foul, so bad. Verily, it brings 
Grave doubts of final good to man, 
And shakes my hope to 'void sin's ban. 
Now will I haste me back; no more 
Will venturing test what I deplore. 

Can I but reach yon holy ground, 
Where Heaven's bright spirits hover 'round. 
There will I kneel, and earnest plead 
To God, our trust in direst need. 

Exit Wizard. 



159 



i6o MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE DAISY. 

? »- I ^WAS in a garden bright with bloom, 
1 Of lovely flowers of sweet perfume, 
All ranged along from side to side 
Of each broad walk, the owner's pride; 
There beds made gay with every hue. 
Contrasted as they always do; 
Whilst many vines of climbing green. 
Lent added beauty to the scene. 

'Twas there the rose, resplendent flower! 

Gave sweetness to that garden bower; 

Oh, who its loveliness can paint. 

Its brighter hues with tints more faint, 

All blended with artistic grace ? 

It grew, the pride of that choice place; 

Sweet flower! it lends an added glow, 

A charm where e' er its flowerets grow. 

There columbines, both red and blue. 
All ranged in rows, in beauty grew. 
Near hyacinths by Zephyrus loved — 
Apollo's choice where e'er he roved — 
That made the borders bright and gay. 
When early summer's sunbeams play. 
Contrasting with the peony's hue. 
That at that time were blooming, too. 



MISCELLANEO US POEMS. 1 6 1 

Whilst nearer, spread in rich display, 
A bed of royal pansies lay, 
In wealth of gold and purple sheen, 
Blooms, too, of dainty white between. 
And many tulips, further on. 
To the enraptured eye did dawn; 
With hues of crimson and of gold, 
In beauty vying, did unfold. 

Who gazed, beheld sweet fuchsias smile, 
In clustering, pendent groups, the while. 
Too, various lilies graced the land, 
A lovely, fragile, sister band. 
With robe-like petals purely white. 
Profusely grouped gleamed to the sight; 
The fleur-de-lis did bloom there, too, 
Close by the so-called tiger's hue. 

Many geraniums, pink and white, 
Prolific bloomed all fresh and bright, 
Whilst others there of brilliant red. 
Glowed on the lawn in separate bed; 
And vines and creepers climbing 'round 
Many a bower within that ground, 
Made sheltering nooks on every side, 
Of varied foliage spreading wide. 

There every flower that charms the sight, 
In season bloomed all fresh and bright; 
Hydrangeas, and mignonette — 
Oh, who its sweetness can forget ? 
Lilacs, carnations, eglantine, 
The honeysuckle's flowering vine. 



1 62 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Verbenias and nasturtions, too, 
Within that lovely garden grew. 

A pleasing scene to glad the sight, 
When summer smiles in aspect bright. 
And I will mention, whilst I may, 
Amidst those flowers profuse and gay. 
Quite screened by all the cultured pride 
That bloomed in beauty side by side, 
A daisy root, all humble, lone. 
Had vegetated there and grown — 

A vagrant of the highway side, 
Obtruding, in that ground did bide; 
Its blossoms bright, and freshly fair, 
All modestly stood smiling there. 
'Twas to the gardener's self unknown. 
Or else that plant had never grown — 
Excluded by his watchful care. 
From mingling with the cultured fair. 

The owner chanced to pass that way, 
And saw the daisies bloom that day. 
" What's this? " he cried, "a common weed. 
To grow and scatter 'round its seed! 
Call John! what means the careless lout? 
Go! bid him come and dig it out! " 
The gardener, John, was gone away. 
And so the root was left that day. 

'Twas at the same day's eventide. 

Two maidens walked there, side by side. 



MISCELLANEO US POEMS. 1 63 

Conversing of the ball that night, 

To pluck bouquets all fresh and bright, 

To choose the flowers that pleased the best, 

To deck the hair, adorn the breast. 

One lovely maid had dark brown hair; 

In truth they both were sweet and fair. 

One chose the rose, that night to wear. 
One red, one white, to deck her hair; 
Two lovely buds should nestling rest, 
In beauty on her virgin breast; 
And in her hand a bouquet rare. 
Of sweet moss-roses fresh and fair 
She bore, that lent an added grace — 
A lovlier flush to her bright face. 

Just then the other chanced to spy 
The modest daisies smiling nigh; 
" This, this the flower that suits me best! 
'Tis these shall rest upon my breast. 
And in my hair an ample store 
I'll weave, yes, deftly braid some more! 
I love their simple beauty, too, 
The best of all I ever knew." 

"What! wear those common, scentless things ? 
What lack of style low culture brings! 
Your verdancy doth make me sigh," 
Proud Margaret did sneering cry, 
With scorn depicted in her eye. 
The other answered: " Ask not why! 
Style, or no style, 'tis all the same; 
My taste pray pardon, do not blame. ' ' 



164 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

That summer night in that grand hall, 
Where music threw its charm o' er all, 
Where flowers exhaled a fragrance rare, 
A sweet perfume to all the air, 
Were gathered all of manly grace. 
From that fair country's ample space; 
Too, beauty's witching presence beamed, 
And lamp's bright light in splendor gleamed. 

Then Alice, 'midst that festal throng, 
Shone loveliest there of maids among; 
Her robe of soft white texture flung, 
In graceful folds around her clung, 
With modest daisies in her hair, 
A simple chaplet fresh and fair — 
No glittering gem's bold flashing light. 
Or gaudy show of colors bright. 

But chastely clad, with charming grace, 
She beamed the star of that grand place. 
The noblest of that gathered throng, 
The proudest soul those guests among. 
Did own her sweetly witching power. 
The maiden, like the simple flower. 
Charmed by the hidden spell that lies 
In modest worth that never dies. 

Whilst in the garden's stately rows. 

Each lovely flower of culture grows. 

The humble daisy of my song. 

Blooms fresh and bright the whole day long 

Upon each urban roadside- way. 

O'er each drear spot it sheds a ray 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 765 

Of hope to glad the toilers' lot, 
And brightens each unsighdy spot. 

'Tis said, from Paradise an Angel hand, 
When Eve first sighed in a strange land. 
In pity for the wanderer's fate. 
Flew swiftly from its guarded gate; 
Then gave to sooth her poignant woe. 
The Daisy plant to root and grow. 
To shed its brightness round her way, 
And cheer the wanderers every day. 



THE WINE CUP. 

HE who brims the goblet, 
Exalteth for awhile. 
But let him not forget, 

'Tis the destroyer's wile; 
It turns the youthful mind, 

From pure ennobling things; 
As he shall truly find. 

It poignant sorrow brings. 



1 66 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE BUILDERS. 

WEALTH built a lofty mansion fair, 
The skill of art was centered there; 
Its corner-stone was laid in pride, 
He laid it firmly there to bide; 
'Twas built of brick and costly stone. 
Of latest style that then was known; 
A pile that loomed in grandeur vast. 
That caught the eye of all who passed. 

Who saw, did stare as if amazed, 
Or by its splendor greatly dazed. 
But where its pondrous arches rise. 
To proudly greet the summer skies — 
Bare, bold and grand, in sullen light — 
No lingering sunshine smiling bright, 
Plays on the tracery of its dome. 
Or lights the portals of that home. 

Pride casts its shadow all around, 
Each nook and spot of all its ground. 
For by the toil of slaves 'twas built, 
'Tis but a monument to guilt. 
And though it hath an aspect grand, 
The costliest home in all that land, 
The inmates of its sombre halls. 
Gloomed by the ceaseless shade that falls, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 167 

To cast a spell of cheerless blight, 
On every day that wings its flight, 
Seem weighted by the bond of shame, 
That rests npon its owner's name. 
Contemned by all, its joyless hearth 
Ne'er echoes to the sound of mirth; 
And all day long the gloom of care, 
Portentously rests everywhere. 

A wiser builder built a home; 

The charm of love was 'round it thrown; 

The owner laid its corner-stone 

On land by honest thrift his own; 

On humble front the sunshine lay, 

In brightness all the summer day; 

And roses bloomed in many a bower. 

To welcome him at evening hour. 

When from the distant field he sped, 
To meet the flock his labors fed. 
Who greet with joyous shouts amain. 
His glad return from toil again; — 
Sweet toil that spreads its ample store. 
And welcomed daily all the more, 
That every day that smiles in peace. 
Will all his little store increase. 

For days when passing time shall fling, 
The helplessness that age doth bring. 
Thus happy and content each day, 
That dawns in brightness o'er his way, 
He marvels much at legends old, 
That tell of chieftains proud and bold. 



1 68 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Who trampled on the weak around, 
To gain the bubble of renown; 

Whose path marked all by blood and strife, 
Where misery joins to curse each life, 
Sinks down at last o'erwhelmed by fate- — 
His just award the people's hate. 
Contented with his humble lot, 
Exempt from all corroding blot, 
Ambitious only to expand 
Fair Virtue's laws on every hand. 

His days are passed in peace away. 
Freed from the cares of vain display. 
His home though but a cottage bower, 
Made bright by hues of many a flower, 
Where tranquil love beams every day, 
And gently smooths life's troubled way, 
Proclaims that humble family band, 
Amongst the happiest of that land. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 169 



THE DRUNKARD REDEEMED. 



AWAY, away false Wine! 
Away deceiving tide! 
Thou art no friend of mine! 
Then wherefore near me bide ? 



What balm can scenes of beauty bring, 
To him who owns remorseful sting ? 
Not virgin Nature's loveliest bower 
Can charm, if visioned horrors lower 
To haunt the chambers of the heart, 
To bid pure joys of manhood part. 

My soul! that time, what harrowing dread, 
Weighed on me as of ponderous lead! 
Vainly I sought Salvation's light, 
To free me from its massy might; 
Vainly I cried, ' ' Away, foul power ' ' 
Still 'round me it did still lingering! lower, 

And my sad soul was tempest- tossed, 
Each aching sense but echoed, " Lost! " 
As a lone bird to ocean driven. 
By blinding storms perplexed and riven. 



170 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Engulfed midst seething wastes that sever, 
And lost to peaceful shores forever. 

Ah, mel I mourned the happy past, 
Before Intemperance held me fast! 
Gone was youthful innocence, 
And darkness deep and most intense, 
Shrouded my spirit to depress, 
And wrap in utter hopelessness. 

I strove — 'twas vain — the curse still clung — 
Its slimy tendrils 'round me flung! 
Creeping through my veins and brain. 
And striving, too, my soul to gain; 
Each pulse did own its venomed trace, 
I could not 'scape its vile embrace! 

Could I have shunned the thing accurst. 
Torn from my soul its craven thirst, 
I'd welcomed ills that penury knows. 
Nor sorrowed at the kindred woes. 
That bide where hopeless want still strives. 
And teem where gaunt- eyed famine thrives. 

O Innocence! what joys are thine! 
To dwell where humble virtues twine. 
Shunning the seared and riven track. 
Swept by fierce storm-clouds looming black. 
Where passions like the lightning's shock. 
Shivering the strength of native rock. 

Had cast me, shattered, wrecked and torn, 
Contemned, reviled in terms of scorn, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Helpless, to dwell with grim despair, 
And bade me writhe in anguish there. 
What dreadful fate was mine to know! 
Then luring evils seemed to grow, 

Till the mad 'wildering force of sin. 
With my whole being seemed akin; 
And if I loathed or shunned the vice. 
The tempter came with new device, 
And won me to his ways again, 
Till my whole soul was foul with stain. 

My wife, my children I forsook! 
Was robbed, my earthly all he took! 
And left me on the shore of time, 
All hopeless, groveling in sin's slime. 
'Twas then I stood an abject void, 
Lone, lost, with teeming horrors cloyed. 

One little seed that long was hid — 
In boyhood when my mother bid 
Me kneel, 'twas planted sure and deep; 
It grew and waked my soul from sleep — 
The sleep of death that 'round it clung, 
Back the foul growth of hell it flung. 

And led me through a Father's grace. 
Humbled, redeemed, to virtue's place. 
And now I shudder at the past, 
The dreadful bonds that held me fast, 
That fell away when His pure light, 
Dispelled the gloom of that dread blight. 



171 



172 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE WANDERER'S REFUGE. 

WHEN the frail heart from virtue's way, 
Sore-tempted feels inclined to stray, 
When sin's alluring smiles seem bright. 
And guilt pursues to surely blight, 
Oh then, O God! how sweet to rest, 
To find a refrige on Thy breast! 
From all our fears find safety there, 
And feel the love and kindly care, 
That calls the wanderer home! 

The snares that mesh our weary feet, 
We cannot shun by acts discreet; 
Not precept's light nor wisdom's ray. 
Can shelter for a single day; 
Oh then, O God! how blest to know. 
True wisdom but from Thee can grow! 
From Thee alone, from Heaven above, 
Can flow the wise paternal love. 
That calls the wanderer home! 

When all the world frowns grimly dark. 
And through the gloom we see no spark 
Of light, or hope from earthly source. 
And sore affliction marks our course. 
Oh then, O God! how sweet the thought. 
Thy name with joyful rest is fraught! 
A balm to heal the spirit's throe. 
To soothe the heart o'erwhelmed with woe. 
And call the wanderer home! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

OUR REDEEMER LIVETH. 

He is risen: Mark, xvi; 6. 

LO ! Nature spread her sable screen, 
When Israel gazed upon the scene 
That bade the loving Jesus die, 
Foretold for long in prophesy. 

Each trembling Hebrew shrunk in haste, 
As sighing winds swept o'er that waste, 
Fleeing in fear the bone-strewn ground. 
As darkness filled the air around. 

His followers, each faithful one. 
Gathered when bigots' work was done; 
Then tenderly that mangled form, 
Unto a fitting grave was borne. 

Those holy features all serene, 
From rude unfeeling gaze to screen, 
That form of vital power bereft. 
Was in sepulchral quiet left. 

They left Him in death's silent slumber. 
Sheltered in a rock-hewn chamber; 
The entrance sealed from outer strife, 
Secure from all its passions rife. 



173 



174 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Lo! Angel forms soon 'gathered there; 
Vile man was raised from sin's despair; 
The massy door was rolled away, 
His Saviour rose from lifeless clay. 



WOMAN'S LOVE. 

OH what were life without the ray 
Of womanhood's love to light its way? 
A devious, thorny path of gloom. 
Ending in the silent tomb. 

But love, sweet love, is ever bright. 
Dispelling gloom of sorrow's blight, 
Softly beaming on the heart, 
Transforming selfish nature's part. 

The purest, loveliest gem of earth. 
Is when the soul to love gives birth, 
When Virtue, vestal of the home, 
Smiles sweetly o'er each loving one. 

What charm can rank or fortune fling, 
Or power or stately grandeur bring, 
Where hearts by sordid aims are tied. 
And love is banished all by pride ? 

Far better seek some bowered retreat. 
Where love, true love, beams calmly sweet, 
Content to dwell unknown to fame. 
Enough, the bliss of love's pure flame. 



MISCEL f.ANEO VS POEMS. r 75 



WEALTH. 

BOLD sordid Wealth arrayed in ^oV\, 
'Tis said, souj^dit out I.ovt^'s bower of old 
lint timid Love, the simple elf, 
Shunned the sight of glittering I'elf, 
And cried in bitter anguish, too, 
" Thy burning eyes do pierce me through! 
I could not live where every day, 
I'd surely scorch in thy fierce ray; 
No, Love secluded, seeks the bower 
Where modest buds of virtue flower! " 



Till!: SHATTERED VASiC. 

A MASTER workman made a fiiir and fragile vase, 
In every part the triumph of his skill you'd laace; 
That rare creation harmonized in every curve; 
The graceful thing might well its destined purpose serve 
To hold within a spirit undefiled and pure; 
There safe from earth's contaminations made secure — 

Secure within 

I'^rom every sin, 

All safe from stain 

Of sordid gain, 

I'Vom sellish pride. 

Or passion's tide, 



176 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

From Slander's train, 
From Sorrow's pain, 
To guard from blame, 
And shield from shame. 

Awhile it was admired and wondering crowds drew near. 
In every part so perfect did the lovely vase appear; 
Some there did view it round with reverential care. 
And said, " It was a thing of workmanship most rare." 
All did approve, applauding, praised the master hand, 
That gave a gem so rich to his loved native land. 

Of faultless mould. 

Of price untold. 

Without a stain, 

Or marring vein 

Of earthly soil 

Appeared to foil 

The skill of thought 

That genius wrought 

By artist hand 

To grace the land. 

Finished, it stood supremely fair; 
The skill of mind did triumph there; 
The Spirit symbolized therein 
Was Peace, all free from taint of sin. 
But yet, alas! the spoiler came, 
Attracted by its widespread fame, 
He cared not for its wondrous grace. 
Or for artistic skill you'd trace; 
To him 'twas but a thing most rare, 
Hence, valuable beyond compare. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

He sought and gained the precious prize, 

But other robbers did arise, 

And in the struggle to secure, 

The fragile vase could not endure 

The rudeness of opposing clash. 

A heavy blow — then like a flash — 

So quickly it was shattered all. 

And thus contentious greed for spoil, 

Did all that artist's efforts foil; 

So, lost to earth that priceless vase; 

Forever lost to all the race. 

The spirit Peace swift winged away. 

And Rapine came in place to stay; 

Where joyous Plenty did abound, 

Tumultuous War reigned all around. 

Thus where contentious Greed is nigh. 

The mind's best gems in ruins lie. 



WAITING FOR THE VERDICT. 

A DEEP and solemn silence reigned supreme, 
No sound — but yet at intervals was heard 
Convulsive sobs — the quiet there did seem 
Oppressive waiting the expectant word. 
The foreman stood awhile and eyed the throng. 
Then fixed his gaze upon the court. 
Ah, then! that one sad, tearful face among 
The many there, with anxious look, ardent, long, 
With eyes dilated and her lips apart. 
With scarce a throb of her sad, anguished heart, 
I* 



177 



1 78 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Expectant, listened for the word of fate; 

Each supreme moment seemed an age to wait. 

When, in a voice, deep, solemn in its tone, 

The fateful word, "Guilty," 'midst answering moan, 

Fell on the listening throng, and on the ear 

Of that expectant wife who shed no tear — 

So much oppressed could only moan her woe — 

Frozen awhile e'en life's warm currents flow. 

Alas! he who had stood in youthful pride. 
And claimed that fair young being for his bride, 
To love and to protect through all life's way, 
In adversity to be her stay. 
Himself had fallen — to be borne away 
To prison on that eventful day. 
And she — that word so ominous had pierced 
Her very soul — was it some fearful dream. 
Or dethroned reason's last, faint, flickering beam? 
That he — the hero of each maiden thought, 
With every fibre of her soul inwrought — 
For youthful fancy then had woven round, 
A chaplet for the loved one she had crowned 
With willing homage king — had proved but clay — 
The one she so had loved in happier day. 
And she was borne unto her childhood's home. 
Where she in maiden innocence did roam; 
She's now a fair, calm woman with sad eyes, 
And on her brow a settled shadow lies — 

For he was guilty! 



MiSCELLAlSfkO US POEMS. \ 79 



OLD BILL. 

A POOR old horse of well-earned fame, 
Blind of one eye, and stiff and lame. 
Past service for his master kind. 
For ties that faithfulness doth bind, 
Was turned to roam the pastures free. 
Or rest beneath some spreading tree. 

" Oh, shoot the brute! " his men did say; 
He's ever getting in the way; 
He'll eat to cost of meal and hay, 
When the warm summer's sped away, 
Enough to get a new-milk cow, 
Or buy a harness or a plow." 

"No, no! ril never part with Bill; 
No, never! leastways not until 
From accident or age he dies; 
Why! I had him when a colt in size; 
Always gentle, kind and and true. 
Shoot him! no, that Pll never do! 

" For many a year through thick and thin. 
He's helped right well each crop to win; 
At first 'twas all the horse I had; 
And he and I and John, the lad. 
Did each our part to work the farm; 
So think you I would do him harm ? 



i8o MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

' ' ' Twas only yesterday I said to wife — 

' Why Emily as sure as life, 
Old Bill enjoys to roam around; 
A stranger' d think him almost sound.' 
My sakes alive! I've had him nigh 
On thirty years — how time does flyl 

" I, too, I feel am getting old, 
So do not wish to gain more gold; 
Why then should I his fodder spare. 
Or grudge to give a willing share 
To an old friend so stanch and true ? — 
The steadiest horse I ever knew! 

"And now I'm rich in worldly store, 
I'd gladly share and give him more. 
If there was aught I thought he'd like; 
So I'll give special charge to Mike, 
On frosty nights, or should it storm, 
To see he's sheltered well and warm. 

' ' Of the young horses, none compare 
With Bill. His was a nature rare 
In horses, and could he but speak. 
He'd prove his intellect not weak. 
I'd trust him on the darkest night, 
To safely keep the road aright; 

" And then he never tried to shirk, 
But always did a fair day's work; 
Nor would he leave you in the lurch — 
Small cause had I to use the birch 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

On honest Bill! — in pulling snug, 
He'd do his utmost at a tug. 

" And if it was too much for him 
When he had tried with might and vim, 
Why then he'd turn his head and neigh. 
Which meant as plain as horse could say, 

' The load's too much, or road's too rough '— 
And truly that was talk enough. 

" So I just let him have his way — 
We never quarreled to this day — 
I always found him in the right; 
And so we've pulled through many a plight, 
Through sweltering heat and pouring rain; 
With Bill I never toiled in vain. 

" The other horses jump and start, 
Each often fails to do his part, 
And so vexation and delay 
Is met with almost every day. 
They never could be trained like Bill 
For careful work requiring skill — 

" As cultivating row on row. 
When through the growing corn we'd go, 
Or when the children chose to ride; — 
That seemed to be Bill's special pride. 
As on his back, when in his prime. 
He bore them safely many a time, 

" And then I never can repay 
The service he performed that day — 



i8i 



I §2 Miscellaneous poems. 

What! never heard how Bill saved all, 
Wife, I, old Mike and children small, 
That spring when raging waters roared, 
And through the broken levee poured ? 

' ' Call it chance or what you will. 
With head through window there stood Bill, 
That night whilst we were sleeping sound, 
And waters wild were circling round; 
With sounding snort and echoing neigh, 
' Arise!' as plain as horse could say, 

" Pealed loudly through the broken sash; 
I sprang and to the door did dash; 
Much startled quickly saw the cause. 
Then roused each inmate without pause; 
' Ho! every one! the flood! the flood!' 
Soon my pale household round me stood. 

" ' To horse at once, make for the hill. 
And don't forget to rescue Bill!' 
I cried. Alas! each horse had fled. 
When first the rushing waters spread. 
Bill only of my pasture's pride, 
In trusting mood with us did bide. 

" ' Haste! the light wagon in the shed!' 
With lantern to the barns we sped. 
Hitched up old Bill, our only chance; 
I viewed the scene with anxious glance, 
Where darkly 'neath the moon's pale beam, 
The seething waters round did gleam. 



Miscellaneous Poems. 183 

' ' With wife and youngest in the cart — 
The rest on foot — we did depart. 
Old Bill, he seemed to know our need; 
We marveled at his strength and speed, 
It seemed almost his youthful pace — 
We scarce excelled him in the race. 

" The road-bed showed a narrow way 
'Midst gathering water's darker gray; 
I turned and saw the currents foam, 
All round the place we'd called our home; 
E'en o'er the road the dashing tide, 
At intervals was spreading wide. 

" But on, for life, we hurrying pressed. 
Nor dared to pause for needful rest; 
We gained the rising ground at last, 
Where danger from the flood was past; 
Forlorn, we viewed the scene around. 
Then sunk exhausted on the ground. 

" Poor Bill was nigh bereft of breath; 
I thought that race would cause his death ; 
That tug had tried his utmost strength — 
We had not paused in all its length; 
He fell and lay awhile quite still, 
When we had safely gained the hill. 

" We quite forgot our own sad plight, 
And sadly gazed on Bill that night, 
For, surely he had saved us all; 
With deep regret we saw him fall; 



1 84 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

So you may guess, when there at length 
. We did perceive returning strength 

' ' Pervade and stir his time-worn frame, 
How we recalled his past of fame, 
And tried each art of farmer lore, 
As best we could then to restore 
Him to his wonted health again — 
Nor did our efforts prove in vain. 

' * Kind neighbors aided that next morn — 
They'd found us there all wet and lorn — 
Provided shelter, fire and food, 
Till we could make a passage good 
From that poor refuge safe by boat. 
To some sure haven more remote. 

' ' Did we let Bill stay there alone 
Till that great flood had ceased and gone ? 
Oh, no! we took him right along 
With other horses there among. 
And gave him every needful care, 
For he was welcomed everywhere. 

" Twas twenty days ere we returned, 
To the old home our labors earned; 
There sadly viewed the ruin round— 
The flood had washed away much ground. 
But the house had safely stood; 
In time we made all losses good. 

" Now think you friends that I would shoot? 
What though old Bill be but a brute! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 185 

Through life he's borne a faithful part: 
Why, men! I could not have the heart 
To harm a hair of his old hide; 
So whilst he lives his pasture's wide. 

Hey! old friend! old honest Bill! 
Go crop the grass and have your fill! 
See friends, he answers with a neigh! 
He certainly shall have his way; 
No more shall harness gall his back, 
Nor of good^food shall old Bill lack. 

I hope he'll jog in tranquil way, 
Through pastures rich this many a day; 
And death, all free from pain or groans. 
When it brings rest to his old bones. 
Will be his lot. With love sincere. 
O'er his cold form I'll drop a tear." 



MISCULLANEOVS POEMS. 



SPRING'S WELCOME. 

Oh, how brightly the landscape lay smiling once more, 
Where the blight of the Frost- King had gloomed it before, 
When beautiful Spring, all adorned with sweet flowers, 
And gemmed with the freshness of warm, sunny showers. 
All robed in the hues of the emerald' s bright sheen, 
Waved her magical wand o'er the fairy-like scene! 

'Twas the zephyrs that bore her in triumph along, 
Whilst the joy of the birds was expressed in their song, 
For the songsters were vocal in wild, woodland notes. 
Oh, what a glad welcome was trilled from their throats. 
As she^came for a season with garlands of bloom, 
Bright blossoms of beauty and sweetest perfume! 

The forests she robed in fresh mantles of green, 
O'er the brooklets that rippled and sparkled between, 
Where the soft mellow sunshine peeped smilingly through 
The umbrageous depths where forget-me-nots grew; 
And the sheen of her wings in the sun's golden light, 
Was the herald of joy and intensest delight. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 187 



FAITH. 

In the journey of life there's a magical spell, 
That will lessen its toils, and its sorrows, as well. 
That will gladden each heart when the shadow of care, 
Would quench with its presence the brightness born there. 

When in youth's rosy spring-time all nature seems bright, 
And fortune and friendship shed genial light, 
Then we know not that trials will quench love's sweet ray, 
Or that fancy's bright pictures will soon fade away. 

But what can assuage when the heart is all lone. 
When youth with its bright, joyous nature is gone. 
When misfortune has blighted its blossoms in sooth — 
Our hopefulness, trust in the world and its truth. 

When Caliope's sweet strains no longer can charm, 
When Ambition pursues to entangle and harm, 
When misfortune lowers'darkly o'er life's unseen way. 
To obscure the bright visions we then thought would stay ? 

Affeection can soothe the bereaved at the bier, 
May dry for affliction the fast falling tear. 
But the ties that unite us are severed, perforce, 
As time hastens on o'er the old, beaten course. 

Thus, when all the world groweth dim to our ken. 
There is naught but sweet Faith that can gladden us then; 
Have we wooed her and won her in life's early day. 
In sorrow or joy, she is constant alway. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



MY BELOVED. 

Lo, Venus! bright star of the morning, 
Most loved of the heavenly throng! 
Her soft lambent light then adorning, 
All peerless in beauty among 
The bright sisterhood there, 
Illuming, with none to compare. 

So thou, my beloved! enshrined 
In the grace of affection's pure light, 
In perfection doth beam on my mind, 
Serene as that star, but more bright. 
All my world with thy beauty adorning. 
Loved star of life's radiant morning! 

What to me is the wealth of the gay, 
Or rank, with its cares to corrode! 
I would shun the cold, heartless display. 
Of fashion's dull, cumbersome mode. 
To dwell where the light of thy love, 
Illumes like that star from above. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 189 



'TIS EVER THUS. 

A lovely flower blooms for a day, 
And then it dies and fades away; 
The sunset tints o'er ocean glow, 
Then nought but cold, dark waters flow ; 
A calm, bright landscape glads the sight. 
Then clouds loom dark and all is night; 
'Tis ever thus — the things most bright, 
Soon fade and vanish from our sight. 

The cherished idols of our heart, 
Although we grieve from them to part. 
Lie broken, all in ruin cast — 
Along our way they mark the past; 
And few and far apart, the bright. 
Glad hours our devious pathway light; 
'Tis ever thus — Hope smiles awhile. 
And then a thousand snares beguile. 

The loved, the beautiful and good. 
While living are misunderstood; 
But Death stands eager for the prize. 
Whilst Sorrow wafts her to the skies; 
And so perchance though Joy was near. 
Our blindness brings repenting tear. 
'Tis ever thus — too late. Regret 
Would calm the soul by gloom beset. 



I go MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Toil yet, ye souls by Anguish tossed! 

Hearts by the slights of Fortune crossed! 

Not ye alone do feel the sting, 

That blasted hopes and sorrow bring — 

For all, the fair, the proud, and gay. 

Alike must wither and decay. 

' Tis ever thus — the heart beats high. 

And then the hopes we've cherished, die. 

The mightiest of the many great, 
Alas! succumb at last to fate; 
The brave who triumphed in the field, 
And taught the haughty foe to yield, 
The statesman to his country true. 
As time speeds on, are stricken, too. 
' Tis ever thus — the wise and brave, 
Alike are hurrying to the grave. 

And beauty blossoms for a day. 
And smiles awhile along life's way; 
It sheds a soft and pleasing ray, 
But yet, alas! it must decay; 
It blooms to deck the lowly bier, 
From Pity's eye to wring a tear. 
'Tis ever thus — the fragile flower 
Is shorn in some tempestuous hour. 

Oh, what are riches, rank and place ? 
They perish all, and leave no trace; 
E'en Fame, that lures the wisest still, 
Imparts but momentary thrill, 
Then fleets away; her garlands twined. 
Soon wither on the brow they bind. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 191 

' Tis ever thus — old Time speeds by, 
And Fame's bright temples ruined lie. 

And so, 'midst disappointment here, 
'Midst sorrow, blight and glooming fear, 
Had we no satisfying thought. 
No hope with our whole being fraught, 
Of some blessed future, 'midst our care, 
Ah, then! well might we all despair; 
But it is thus — our God has given 
To the pure soul, a home in Heaven. 



SPRING. 

HOW silently sweet Spring unfolds 
Each bud of lovely green. 
Opening each emerald cup that holds 
A flower of golden sheen! 

When copious showers refreshing pour 

To kiss the waking green. 
Then happy wild-birds' notes once more 

Burst joyously between. 

'Tis then the whole broad landscape fair. 

In vernal robes doth smile, 
Whilst soft and low the zephyrs there, 

Do sweetly blow the while. 



192 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Stealing almost unaware 

Upon the raptured sense, 
The fragrance of each floweret rare 

Imparts delight intense. 

And skies do glow with kinder hue; 

Aurora's roseate blush, 
Bright mantling o'er the ocean's blue, 

Whose waves reflect her flush. 

Whilst radiant Morn doth brush the dew 
From many infant flowers, 

As beaming all the valleys through. 
She peeps in Nature's bowers. 



THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 

WHEN the sign o'er Bethlehem shone. 
With lambent light from God's own throne. 
Proclaiming dawn of brighter day. 
Sealed by that Star's celestial ray. 
Illumining the darkness cast 
Athwart the dreary ages past, 
To aid the soul's all- wavering sight. 
Thus giving man a surer light, 
'Twas then the living God revealed 
The birth His inspiration sealed. 

O God! what love was thine to show. 
That flowed through Christ to man below. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 193 

Proclaimed by every deed and word, 
Whilst simple peasants wondering heard! 
Their souls with mighty rapture glowed, 
To hear the word of truth that flowed 
Spontaneous from the lips of one. 
Acknowledged by the God His Son. 

The balm that heals the sore distressed, 
O Christ! is from thy bosom pressed; 
Then let not modern sophists dare 
Eclipse the light bright beaming there; 
For lo! the truth revealed — the Word, 
Right from the throne of God is heard, 
Illumining each righteous soul, 
Thus binding with His love the whole — 
His people, planted by His care — 
Soon shall that Star shine everywhere. 

Who thirsts, there is no other course; 
Go seek at the pure Fountain's source, 
Of the sweet waters drink thy fill. 
Then shalt thou know the joyful thrill. 
And all thy sins like fetters cast, 
No more in sorrow bind thee fast. 

Then turn where Bethlehem's Star doth burn — 
Its guiding beams all may discern; 
The steady light of that bright Star 
Is radiant as in days afar: 
All through the ages its pure beams. 
With bright refulgent beauty gleam ; 
Serene and pure its Heavenly light, 
As first it beamed upon man's sight. 



194 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE OLD LOVE. 

ALL the world sweetly sings of new love, 
Of the souls that are mated above, 
Of the hearts by its impulse made one 
And all joyous that once were so lone; 
But to me there's no love like the old love. 
For the old love is always the tried love, 
The love that has reached its fond goal, 
That abideth full strong in the soul. 

The morning's impressive and grand, 
Whilst its splendors encircle the land 
With the sheen of its purple and gold. 
When Aurora's bright beams first unfold. 
With their halo to welcome the new love; 
Like the tints of the dawn is the new love, 
In its first flush of romance and youth, 
When we trust in the world and its truth. 

But how sweet the calm sunset of life, 
Where love beams serenely, though rife 
Are the dangers that threaten to harm, 
Through sickness and sorrow's alarm: 
Then for me there's no love like the old love, 
Like the tried and unwavering old love, 
Which through life and its burdens still true, 
Is more precious by far than the new. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

For the heart must still cherish the past, 
The fond ties that around it are cast — 
Sweet memories linked from our youth, 
That centre in honor and truth: 
Then the prized is the unchanging old love. 
The steadfast, enduring old love; 
Beyond e'en the tomb it still clings. 
For from virtue's pure fountain it springs. 



195 



MISFORTUNE. 

EVER by misfortune hunted, 
Never more on earth to rest. 
Poverty my only crime. 
To the very verge I'm pressed 
By the burden of my woe; 
All the better instincts blunted 
In life's hoary winter time. 
In this vale of tears below. 

Wealth and friends long since have fled. 
Children all have passed away. 
Remains but gathering gloom of age. 
All passed in life's bright happy day; 
Now life seems like a fleeting dream — 
Dream that mingles with the dead; 
What can now my grief assuage. 
Or delight with happier theme ? 



196 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Want pursues with eager stride; 
Hunger follows fast on want, 
Sorrow comes to gloom me now — 
Oh! what can stem the evil tide? 
Hunted by the plague of ill, 
All my heart and mind they haunt; 
Sadness hovers on my brow. 
Caused by poverty's dread chill. 

Only one last refuge now, 
To shelter from the storms of fate; 
All my soul doth joy to know, 
God alone can man endow 
With the tranquilness of peace; 
Anchored there, secure from hate, 
Near the throne whence love doth flow. 
Where pursuing ills shall cease. 



MIRTH. 

GENIAL Mirth will conquer care. 
Will spread its sunshine everywhere, 
Make glad the heart all chilled and lone 
When youth's bright visions all have flown. 
Will lighten every scene of life, 
Dispel the evils born of strife. 
Give joy, where friendless and forlorn. 
The stricken heart doth sigh or mourn. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 197 



CONTENTMENT. 

LET others crave the boundless store, 
The golden wreath that Midas wore, 
Or seek to climb Fame's laureled hight, 
Where all the world seems purely bright. 

They tell me plenty will unfold. 
At the magic touch of gold, 
That Ease and Pleasure smile alway 
For those who bask in its bright ray. 

But modest store is all I ask ! 
Nor could I bear the burdened task, 
That slothful Ease and Pleasure bring. 
And round Wealth's sordid voteries fling. 

Nor shall Fame cast a single spell, 

I'll shun her fatal haunts as well, 

For who have sought the smiles of Fame, 

Only gained a transient name. 

Only Virtue can bestow 

The sweet content that poets know; 

Such the only aim of mine, 

I'll worship at its restful shrine. 



198 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



FRIENDSHIP. 

HOW soothing Friendship's smile. How sweet 
To know another heart doth beat 
In unison with our own — doth glow 
With kindred thoughts in happy flow. 

'Tis Friendship casts the brightest beam 
That o'er the lot of man doth gleam; 
It lights his way, dispels each fear, 
And gently dries the mourner's tear; 
A lovely gift from Heaven above, 
Bestowed to bind hearts fast in love. 



REST. 

I UT that there be fond ties to bind us here, 
And hold us fast to those who need our care, 
Who would not part with life without a tear, 
And in the tomb find rest forever there ? 

And yet at times the world looks bright and fair, 
Thus luring us to hope and linger on, 

When Nature smiles to bid us still forbear, 
And to forget the trials that are gone. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 199 

Must we, indeed then, flee from busy life, 

And seek some calm retreat far from the throng, 

Whose sordid aims do bring us naught but strife ? 
Who would find rest, must he bide far from wrong ? 

Where is that blest retreat upon the earth, 

Where Pride and Greed or Fame do not intrude ? 

Could we but find the spot where modest Worth 
Might surely scape the jostlings of the rude, 

Ah, then! if constant Love abided there. 
This life would then be shorn of many woes, 

And uncomplainingly we might bear 
The ills inflicted by unnumbered foes. 

And is there then no haven for the soul 

That craves for utmost rest this side of death ? 

No peaceful vale, to prove the sought-for goal, 
Fanned by the soothing zephyr's scented breath? 

No happy isle embosomed in the deep. 

Where life could pass like a long, pleasant dream. 

Where no unwelcome thoughts would vex our sleep. 
Or care, to mar our heart's most cherished theme ? 

And what is life that we should value it. 
To treasure so the years that are to come ? 

If they are full of hope, then it is fit 

That o'er their pleasant way we'd wish to roam. 

But when the night descends upon our path, 
And all our little schemes have come to naught, 

We shrink with trembling from the day of wrath, 
And dread the pain that with our life is fraught. 



200 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

For what is wealth and rank or power at most, 
But the vain ghtter of Delusion's guile; 

They are the things of which the vulgar boast, 
That do delight and please bnt for awhile. 

And yet, is there not more then thus to live 
But for ourselves in all the years to come ? 

Is there not much that we could freely give. 

And in the past that we might then have done ? 

Our lot, thongh it be overcast with gloom. 
Yet have we not within our soul a hope. 

That prompts us to escape the common doom, 
And with our ills successfully to cope ? 

So, if we do but view our walk through life 
As but a school to test our rightful worth, 

Then rest may still be found midst carping strife. 
And life will bring no pain or seeming dearth. 

Then, let us strive to see more clearly all 
That doth pertain to bring the spirit rest; 

In striving to repair what ills befall. 

The active part will surely please the best. 

In idleness there is no fruitful rest. 

Nor pleasure brings us satisfying peace; 

The soul doth urge a more enduring test. 

Before our human longings shall forever cease. 

A life so passed that not one day was vain, 
No crime to stain or hours to folly bent. 

When we do view our past years o'er again — 
Could it but thus have been so wisely spent, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 201 

Then might the spirit know surpassing peace, 
And find at last in God's dear bosom rest, 

Where earthly trials would forever cease, 
To dwell at last with His unnumbered blest. 



POVERTY. 

POVERTY, thou ragged elf. 
Thou child of wan-eyed misery, 
That doth obtrude thy wintry self 
'Midst those of prime degree! 

The winds do shake thy shrunken shanks, 
When from the cold north-land they blow, 

And soon will scatter where thy ranks, 
Thinner from hunger grow. 

Go, hang! thou blear-eyed houseless cur! 

Defacing scab on Nature's brow! 
Nor longer like the worthless burr. 

Adhere where others bow. 

Why whine ? thou pieced-up obstacle 
'Twixt comfort and each goodly saint! 

For who can live a saintly cycle. 
Amidst thy loud complaint ? 

Thou shouldst make way where Greed doth stride. 
Where Pride doth spread her swelling sails; 

Away, then halting rheum! aside! 
Thou dost infect the gale. 
J* 



202 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Thou withered shred of mortal shape, 

That grieves the purse of pampered Pride, 

Let Wealth thy vampire clutch escape! 
Oh ! wherefore dost thou bide ? 

What comfort can the earth bestow, 
On one so shriveled, pinched and sad ? 

Sure, midst so many base and low. 
How can the rich be glad! 

Can Epicurus gorge in peace, 

When thou art pressing ever near, 

To plead for remnants of the feast. 
That else his dogs might cheer ? 



FRIENDSHIP. 

TRUE Friendship built a pleasant cot 
Within a lovely garden plot. 
Where love and pure affection grew, 
And flowers of virtue grew there too. 

'Twas walled around by Honor's hand. 
To save from Guilt's destroying band, 
And sharp-tongued Envy's blighting breath, 
That scatters round untimely death. 

And Friendship o'er that bright domain. 
Resolved impartially to reign. 
And train and cultivate each grace. 
That adds a charm to any place. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



203 



LOVE. 

'T^IS love, sweet love, divine, unchanging, 

1 Through all our world of romance ranging, 
That casts its charm all radiant, glowing. 
Through our being sweetly flowing. 
Flowing with true rhythmic measure. 
That gives to life its greatest pleasure! 

Heart of woman beats unfailing, 

Lonely else or born to wailing, 

To its measure, true to nature. 

Love her past, her present, future; 

Life's joyous day is won more surely. 

Where love, bright love, beams calmly, purely. 

How sad through life to dwell unwedded, 
Of earthly woes to be most dreaded. 
To miss the sweet ecstatic pleasure, 
Of souls whose love accords in measure; 
Sweet union that alone can sever, 
Our life from every base endeavor. 

Through life's journey, glowing brightly, 
Brightly midst all things unsightly. 
More lovely far beyond all measure, 
Than the miser's hoarded treasure. 
For sordid greed doth surely sever. 
The heart from love's bright goal forever. 



204 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

In the halls where love is slighted, 
Where the heart for gold is blighted, 
Wherever love's bright gems are banished. 
Coldness chills where they have vanished; 
Not pride or power accord in measure. 
With pure affection's priceless treasure. 

Love burns serene, where Pelf so greedy, 
Comes not to oust where love is needy. 
And smileth most where blooms each flower. 
Round some fair, rustic, cottage bower; 
Where gentle love doth glow discreetly, 
Content and Joy dwells calmly, sweetly. 



WAITING. 

''THWAS in the early summer's day, 

1 When youth's fond fancies most do stray. 
When Nature spreads her teeming sweets. 
When lovers build their fond conceits. 
We met, we loved, then promised, too, 
Our love should bind us ever true, 
So left me calmly waiting; 
Oh, the tranquilness of waiting, 
And the happiness of waiting. 
Whilst my bosom thrilling, waking. 
Of enraptured joy's partaking! 

We parted till the season crowned 
With golden stores should circle round; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

The days they sped in peaceful flight, 
My heart was filled with sweet delight, 
But when the promised time drew near, 
No lover came to lay each fear v 
That dawned upon my waiting; 
Oh, the solicitude of waiting! 
The anxiety of waiting. 
Whilst the mind is troubled, hoping, 
And the heart with dread is coping! 

Though now full many a year has sped, 
Since early dreams of bliss have fled. 
No word has winged its way to sever 
The hopes that cling to love forever: 
His form impressed upon my heart, 
I cannot, cannot bid depart, 
Though ever, ever waiting; 
Oh, the weariness of waiting, 
And the loneliness of waiting, 
Whilst the brain is throbbing, aching, 
And my sad, sad heart is breaking! 

Oh, waiting is the direst thing! 

What harrowing thoughts around it cling! 

My brow once crowned with golden store 

Of tresses, now is silvered o'er; 

My form has pined itself away; 

God knows how earnestly I pray 

He'll bid me end the waiting; 

Oh, the dreariness of waiting, 

And the agony of waiting, 

Whilst the soul is pining, sighing, 

And my life is fading, dying! 



205 



2o6 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

But Hope inspires my heart once more- 
She points towards the river's shore — 
She tells me he was faithful, too, 
To all his plighted vows was true; 
Our souls by earthly trials tried, 
Will joyous in the future bide, 
Where on the shore he's waiting; 
Oh, I know my loved is waiting! 
Yes, I see him smiling, waiting! 
Now my spirit views the dawning — 
Love, I'm coming! coming! coming! 



WORDS OF LOVE. 

FROM things of beauty we must part. 
They please but for awhile; 
But words of love bide in the heart, 
Nor will our hopes beguile. 

As tossed upon life's checkered tide, 

'Tis only love's bright goal. 
Can offer more than all beside, 

To cheer the care-worn soul. 

Kind words of love to the distressed, 

May prove a message blest. 
To soothe some heart when sore oppressed, 

And calm to needful rest; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 207 

And when despair's dark storm-clouds roll, 

May make life seem more bright, 
May cast a spell round some lost soul. 

To bring it back to light; 

Perchance direct the wanderer's way, 

From sin's pursuing wrath. 
Reclaim a soul no more to stray. 

From virtue's smiling path. 



THANKSGIVING. 

AROUND die board in festal flow. 
Thanksgiving spreads its genial glow; 
Our souls responsive all with love. 
For mercies from the Throne above. 
With grateful hearts midst friendship's cheer. 
We join to praise the fruitful year. 

Thus down life's shifting scene of time. 
That each full year may ring in rhyme, 
With thankful anthem's glad refrain. 
We join in happy song again, 
That our full hearts, great God, to Thee! 
May join in love's sincerity. 

Sweet Charity with pinions spread, 
Shall grace the way by Plenty led. 
That thanks may swell in peans there, 
And happy hearts with joy declare, 



2o8 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

While peal those notes of glad refrain, 
God's glory and triumphant reign. 

Faith kindled with celestial fire, 

Shall guide with Hope the sweet desire, 

When all our earthly joys are fled, 

When friends shall deck our narrow bed, 

To anchor then in holy rest. 

Our souls upon our Savior's breast. 

Like shattered bark when storms are past. 
Rejoice to be encalmed at last. 
Upon that haven's gentle tide. 
Where angel forms in glory bide; 
And there obscured no more by blight, 
At last rejoice in God's pure light. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



209 



REST FOR THE WEARY. 

WHY should we cling to earthly things, 
As transient as the day, 
Each tie that to our being brings 
Of joy, but fleeting ray, 

When Heaven's bright visitas open wide, 

From sin and sorrow free, 
Where ransomed souls eternal bide, 

Supreme in ecstasy ? 

As gladly as the friendless turn. 

To meet the smile of love. 
So does my mind with longing burn, 

To greet the throngs above. 

Oh, thus, my God! I give each thought, 

From earthly trammels free, 
No more with vain allurements fraught, 

Forevermore to thee! 

That when at last death triumphs o'er. 

This frame of mortal clay, 
And my tried spirit freed once more, 

Seeks out its heavenward way, 

As glad as bird set free, my soul, 

In love shall fly to Thee! 
To Thee, my God! my All! the Goal 

To which the weary flee. 



:2io MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



ECHO. 

O NATURE, now how beautiful thou art! 
How lovely doth appear yon clouds that part 
Where that high mountain peak doth lift its head 
Gilded with hues by morning sunshine shed, 
Like vapory argosies on ether vast, 
With sails all freely to the breezes cast, 
Mayhap, rich freighted with pure souls for realms 
Of lasting bhss! But sadness o'er me whelms 
Despite the beauty of this charming scene, 
Where Nature smiles in aspect so serene. 
The more, that vainly now do I pursue 
My loved, my Echo, all the valley through; 
Here will I pause in this my restless way, 
And call. 'Twas here where last I saw her stray. 
Sweet Echo! love, I come! Narcissus comes! 

ECHO. 
Eet, cho, ho love, come-ome, ciss-is, is omes! 

NARCISSUS. 

Where art thou my beloved ? Lo! see! I come! 

ECHO, 

Where-ere, thou-ou, loved-oved, o, see, come-ome. 



MISCELLANEO US POMMS. 2 1 1 

NARCISSUS. 
Sweet one! oh, mock me not in idle terms! 

ECHO. 

Eet one, mock-ock, not-ot, dle-le, erms. 

NARCISSUS. 

I hear her voice — it circles me around; 
She loves, yet greets me still with mocking sound: 
Fain have I sought each tryst, each bowered retreat. 
Where love and fancy wove each fond conceit. 

Sweet maid! why shun, whilst round me hovering? 
From cliff to cliff still thy loved voice doth ring, 
Bringing remembrance sad. Now I think me, 
She once did say from my false love she'd flee, 
And so doth tease my very soul despite. 
Awhile I'll stay to cheer my weary plight. 
Where this clear fountain greets my lonely way, 
Reposing, rest where smiling sunbeams play. 

What crystal depth doth greet my 'raptured view 
Can't be a spirit, beautifully true. 
Pictured 'midst where these glassy waters lie? 
Ah! now I see 'twas fate that led me nigh, 
To bid me truly love — thus loving, sigh; 
So formed in beauty, viewing thee, I lie. 
Oh, now approach me visioned fair, so dear! 
Narcissus still will bloom if thou be near! 
Else here I'll stay and pine myself away — 
All other love I'll shun, no more to stray. 

Forgotten all and banished from his heart 
Was loving Echo — forever thus to part. 



2 1 2 MISCELLANEO US POEMS. 

Too late, alas ! the wilful maid drew near 
And ranged the way, all timid then with fear — 
Nor heard or heeded was each witching spell; 
Still hovering there, to sighing winds did tell 
The sad, sad sequel to her heart's fond tale. 
The hills reverberated her wild wail, 
When she beheld in penciled beauty cold 
Her youth; then 'twas despair o'erwhelming rolled. 

Yet, her sad spirit fleets for evermore, 
And her wierd wails resound along each shore. 



FOLLY'S MISHAP. ' 

BRIGHT laughing Folly once espied 
A fount, where flowers reflected vied 
In beauty on its crystal tide. 
And bending o'er its mossy side. 
In transient glee she there did bide. 
Whilst in the deep her feet she plied. 
To see its wavelets circling wide. 
Just then a bee his sting applied, 
Which caused the maid to start and slide, 
Deep down where water-sprites do hide. 
A youth by chance that way did ride. 
He saw, nor long his aid denied, 
Plunged boldly, all his skill he tried, 
Else had that maid from drowning died. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



LOVE'S INSPIRATION. 

THERE is pleasure in the sunshine, 
Then why should we repine ? 
There is beauty in each flower, 
That blooms in every bower; 
All nature seems in harmony, 
When love inspires the heart. 

There's joy in acts of kindness, 

Oft hidden by our blindness; 

There's bliss in every thought that clings, 

Where purity and virtue springs, 

And friendship it is sweetest, 

When love inspires the heart. 

There's rapture in each Christian grace. 
Did we but seek its way to trace; 
And oh, how lovely all would be, 
If man would dwell with charity! 
For sympathy ennobles all, 
When love inspires the heart. 



213 



214 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



SPRING. 

WHEN vernal showers new life impart, 
And tender shoots of green upstart, 
The whole glad world in sweet refrain, 
Bursts forth in joyous song again. 

The trees their bannered wealth display, 
And Flora decks the smiling way 
Where, borne upon the zephyr's wing 
We hail thy coming, genial Spring! 

Triumphant then assert thy sway! 
Let all thy wanton graces play! 
Thy fettered limbs are free once more. 
And garlands deck thee as of yore. 

The birds are vocal in thy praise, 
Trilling their notes of happy lays; 
Then lovely Nature all serene. 
Of her fair daughters, crowns thee Queen. 



M 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 215 



GOD'S CREATURES. 

AN'S obligations they are infinite! 

The love he bears his fellow men is right, 



But, too, all creatures God committed to his care, 

In justice do demand a willing share; 

There be, who lack in feeling for the dumb, 

Thus, all their Christian graces do benumb, 

And dwarf the moral aspect of the man, 

So wrong the world still more than doubters can. 

Who hath no love for them within his soul. 

Is hard of heart, and strives at Mammon's goal; 

The wretch but lives a votary of gain. 

No kindly feeling stirs the sordid brain 

That has no heart to love a single thing 

That sports on earth, or soars on joyous wing. 

Unloving and unloved he plods along, 

Nor knows the joy that prompts the warbler's song; 

His days will be a walk of toil and gloom. 

Till cankering care shall bring an early doom; 

And after death the dog he grudged a bone. 

Will bay his semblance in his burial stone. 

Despised by all, his epitaph will be — 

Here lies the dust, to love, an enemy; 

Cold was his heart — it throbbed alone for self; 

His only joy, accumulating pelf" 



2i6 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



LOVE FLINGS A CHARM. 

LOVE flings a charm o'er every sense, 
A radiance round each trysting spot, 
The centre of each thought intense. 
Each memory of its bhssful lot. 

Oh, what were man without its ray. 
To beam in soft and lambent light, 

Or glow in beauty o'er his way, 

To make his earthly walk more bright! 

Sweet love, thy ways are all of joy. 

When two fond hearts by thee are blest. 

Exempt from every base alloy. 
And hallowed by Affection's test! 

Not wayward Beauty's languid glance. 
Can soothe the soul to virtue pure. 

Or worth of womanhood enhance, 
For modest love will most endure. 

Thy altar is the faithful heart. 
To sweet affection purely true. 

Where principle and truth impart. 
The deep impress to virtue due. 

Let others sing of costly state. 

Or of Ambition's lofty place. 
That gilds the portals of the great. 

And all the ways of grandeur trace, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

But love, sweet love, and cottage home, 
With labor's health-inspiring task, 

In gentle guise to ever roam, 
Is all the humble boon I ask, 

With all life's span to glide along 

Love's peaceful, calm and happy shore. 

To dwell afar from every wrong. 
Or own or know a sorrow more. 

O Love, true Love! thy magic power. 

Can sway with might untold, 
Can soothe the heart in trouble's hour. 

Far more than rank or gold ! 

With Love our days will flow in peace. 
In tranquil joy towards the shore, 

And trust, when earthly bliss shall cease. 
To join in Heaven with Love once more. 



217 



2i8 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE POET. 

WITHOUT the Poet's tuneful lyre, 
How dark this world would be! 
His words that thrill its chords of fire, 
Inspire with joy the free; 

And love, how barren of delight, 

Without poetic glow! 
He tints its sway with hues as bright. 

As Orient sunsets know. 

Oh! Beauty's love-inspiring glance, 

Alas! might beam in vain, 
Its spell no longer would entrance, 

Without his witching strain. 

And what were fame? a transient spell, 

That soon would fleet away, 
Without the Poet's art to tell, 

Of Triumph's proud display. 

Where coarse barbaric splendors gleam, 

Midst many a savage rite. 
There Poesy's refining theme, 

Shrinks from its pending blight. 

Ah! it would be a world of gloom, 

A vale for Sorrow's tear, 
No ray of sunshine would illume, 

To soothe each doubt and fear, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

If Poesy threw no spell of light, 

No bright prophetic ray, 
No rainbow hues all shimmering bright, 

With rosy tints to play 

Around life's dim, uncertain way, 

To soothe the longing soul; 
Then F ame or Splendor's rich display, 

Would be but barren goal. 

The hero 'd fill an obscure tomb, 

Uncherished and unsung, 
No ray of gladness would illume. 

The darkness round him flung, 

If Poesy's inspiring glow. 

No more should stir the heart. 

Or round the soul in brightness throw, 
The halo of its art. 

Oh, then, when Life's long, fitful dream. 

Shorn of delight was o'er. 
E'en Heaven itself less bright would seem. 

If Erato sung no more. 



219 



220 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE MAIDEN'S LEAP. * 

''- I ^WAS near a cove's secluded shore, 

1 Where Nature spread around, before, 
A lovely scene to glad the sight. 

The silvery waves were dancing bright, 
Reflecting back the rays of light, 
That shed their splendor on the scene, 
Of waters wide and shores all green 
With grassy slopes and forests wide, 
Where trees of graceful foliage vied. 
In grandeur waving o'er the tide. 

In a sweet vale beneath the shade. 
Their many twining branches made. 
And near a crystal rippling brook. 
That glided down through many a nook, 
A bevy of fair maidens strayed. 
Wandering in that lovely glade. 
Or on the pebbly beach delayed, 
To dally with the placid tide, 
To view the wavelets circling wide, 
Each quiet nook or glen explore, 
Or idly rest on that -calm shore. 

They came to spend a few bright hours. 
Within those tangled wild-wood bowers. 
To stroll the beach or view the wave, 
Perchance within its tide to lave. 

Pent in the seminary's halls, 
For many a day at duty's calls, 



MISCELLANEO US POEMS. 22 1 

To ponder on the tomes of lore, 
Through logic's mazes to explore, 
Expound the classic wealth of old, 
That only culture can unfold; 
With rules of mathematics vexed, 
Or long with routine's cares perplexed. 
What wonder if on that bright day. 
Those students chose to speed away, 
Far to that tangled wild-wood dell, 
Close where the waves of ocean swell, 
To breath the health-inspiring air — 
All joyously to loiter there ? 

And when at last their luncheon o'er. 
Some sought the same wild glen once more. 
Where ferns of graceful semblance grew, 
And lovely flowers were blooming, too; 
They gained of rustic wealth a store, 
And joyously still sought for more. 

Meanwhile the sprightliest of that throng. 
Had sped the shelving beach along. 
To seek for ocean shells so rare, 
And curious pebbles sparkling there. 
At last they reached a sheltered nook. 
Where flowed the waters of that brook ; 
And mingling with the ocean's tide. 
All screened from view on every side, 
A tiny inlet shimmering lay. 
And checked the maidens' onward way. 
They viewed with joy its placid tide. 
With silent rapture there did bide. 
So lovely was the scene around. 
Of wave and banks that marked its bound; 



222 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Then all, as by one impulse moved, 
To seek the silvery tide they loved, 
Exclaimed — " 'Tis just the place to lave! 
Oh, come! let's sport within its wave." 
With one accord they sought the tide. 
And in its crystal flood did bide. 
Like beings of some happier sphere, 
Or of some pearl-lined cavern near. 
They joined in rivalry to trace 
Their way, and triumph in the race, 
Or boldly plunged in sportive play. 
And dived beneath the wave that day. 
When Maud, the leader of that train, 
More venturesome, applause to gain. 
Said — " Durst any swim with me. 
To gain yon rocky isle we see ? 
If not the feat is all my own. 
For here I'll leave you all alone." 
Then glided on that watery way, 
Bright as a sunbeam's golden ray; 
Like inmate of the ocean's caves, 
With graceful ease she cleft its waves; 
The others for a moment gazed. 
All speechless stood as if amazed; 
But Maud's defiance broke the spell, 
All ventured on the tide as well, 
And dared that liquid way to trace, 
Each emulous to win the race. 
Oh, who had seen the witching sight, 
Had stood enraptured with delight! 

Well skilled to lead, the wave to dare. 
Fair Maud still led untiring there; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 223 

Encircled by the waters clear, 

She seemed to know no thought of fear; 

Her supple limbs endowed with strength, 

Soon bore her o'er the course's length; 

The goal was won — that wave-girt rock 

That long had braved old ocean's shock — 

It like a sentinel there stood, 

To guard the entrance to that flood. 

All gained and climed its rugged side. 
Midst joyous laughter echoing wide, 
Just as fair blue-eyed Edith spied 
A boat approaching o'er the tide: 
Ah, then no laughing voice rang out, 
No joyous song or gladsome shout! 
All viewed its inmates with alarm. 
And blushed to own each naked charm; 
Like naiads of the sparkling deep, 
All o'er a rocky ledge did peep; 
But yet, alas! no sheltering screen, 
Around no favoring nook was seen, 
No spreading shrubs or tangled maze, 
To hide from the intruder's gaze. 

A panic seized those trembling fair. 
For soon that boat would anchor there; 
How swiftly it did seem to glide. 
Towards the rock where they did bide. 

But in that moment of surprise, 
A brave, fair leader did arise; 
And Maud exclaiming — " Follow me! " 
With agile leap plunged in the sea. 
They sought the shore with utmost speed — 
Oh, then their skill was tried indeed! — 



224 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Well had those lovely maidens need, 
For soon that boat had neared that isle; 
The youthful hunters paused awhile; 
In deep amaze, they gazed around. 
Perplexed with many doubts profound. 
Was it a vision met their sight. 
Of fair, celestial beings bright. 
Or mermaids, creatures of the deep, 
That o' er the distant wavelets sweep ? 

" Come, let us from this bay away," 
Cried Jack — "it is no place to stay, 
For sprites or naiads haunt each shore; 
And see, e'en now they fleet before!" 

" Not so " — Cried John "be what they may, 
I'll seek their haunts without delay; 
Come boys, let's follow in their wake; 
Perchance the hindmost we can take. 
Or capture — surely such a prize. 
Will fill with envy and surprise, 
Our comrades should they view the same. 
When we return to camp again." 

But Harry broke the confab' short, 
Replying with a quick retort — 
' ' No mermaids they, for see the shore. 
Where on yon beach stray many more; 
By Neptune's trydant! maids are they; 
'Tis meet that we should turn away. 
And now I do remember well — 
All mystery I can dispel — 
The seminary students fair, 
Have now their monthly picnic there; 
And those strange creatures on the rock. 
That frightened Jack, and all did shock. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Were girls, but who'd have thought, 
That they'd be near that isle we sought? 
Come, we'll circle round a distant way, 
Then seek the shore where they do stay; 
We'll greet them, for I know them well — 
But speak no word of what befell. ' ' 

Like frightened swans those panting fair. 
In safety gained the shelter there 
Of that calm cove, nor paused to rest; 
When robed, once more still onward pressed, 
To where the less adventureous stayed; 
To soothe their fears awhile delayed. 
Refreshed, related what befell, 
And of their swift retreat as well; 
Afar, beheld those hunters land. 
And draw their boat up on the sand. 

Those youthful friends approached the fair, 
In social converse tarried there; 
When questioned of their sport the while, 
John answered with a quiet smile — 
' That they had sought yon rocky isle. 
Where mermaids oft the hours beguile; 
There to explore their haunts at least, 
Perchance to capture one apiece." 
And as he scanned each maiden's face, 
By their emotions he could trace. 
Those who had fled that 'ventful hour. 
To gain the sheltering forest bower. 

A few bright years had sped away. 
When on that very beach one day, 
A picnic party more sedate. 
Strolled on that shore with pensive gait; 



225 



226 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Two of those then were Jack and mate, 

Sweet Edith was his loving fate; 

And John had found in Maud each charm, 

That waked his soul to love's alarm; 

And Harry sought in gentle Rose, 

A panacea for his woes. 

They with a few dear friends and true, 

That at that time did roam there, too, 

Sought out each spot, each loved retreat; 

That very rocky isle did greet, 

That stands midst where the waves do sweep; 

Now named by all — "The Maiden's Leap." 



ELLEN HUGHES. 

The following is a true incident of city life. Ellen Hughes on a 
cold and stormy night had sought shelter for her babe at the 
orphan asylum and other places in the city of Buffalo, N. Y., in 
vain. After wandering about in a semi-delirious condition, in 
detpair she threw her babe into the canal. 

WILDLY she wandered, 
Desperately pondered, 
Out on the street, 
Benumbed by the sleet; 

What should she do, 
Thrust on the street. 

Wandering through, 
Nothing to eat, 
None to befriend her ? 
Every one shunned her; 



Miscellaneous poems. 2^7 

Out in the rain, 
With babe at her breast, 
To her heart pressed; 
Thrust on the street, 
With her young baby, 
Innocent baby, 

Free from all stain. 
No refuge or shelter, 
In all the great city; 
Oh, what a pity! 

All to revile her. 

No one to greet her, 

No one to trust her; 
Misery and sorrow. 
No bread on the morrow, 
No home-roof to shelter, 
No kind word to melt her. 
Defiant she fled, 
All reckless she sped; 
The rain beat unceasing, 
The cold wind increasing, 
And shrieking pursued her; 
Wild thoughts rose to hound her. 
She passed o'er a bridge — 
The waters shone dark. 
There was no one to mark, 
When frenzied and wild, 
That mother, her child 
Dashed from her grasp. 
Unheeding its clasp, 
As it clung to her breast. 
Her warm bosom pressed; 



228 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Sweetly it smiled, 

But its mother was wild, 

With the grief in her heart, 

Thus fated to part; 

Not even a scream. 

As it sunk in the stream, 

Down in the slime; 
Only a ripple, a gleam 
From the moon's tearful beam. 
And a white baby-face. 
With its arms you could trace. 
Outstretched in the gloom. 
As it sunk to its doom; 
And the dark waters closed, 
Where an infant reposed. 
With a low gurgling cry. 
Quickly to die, 

Down in the slime. 
In all the great city, 
No one to pity; 
To shed e'en a tear. 
To bid to forbear. 
Or shield from despair; 
None to befriend her, 
All to repel her. 

In all the great city; 
How can we blame her ? 
Why should we shame her. 
With naught but despair, 
Pursuing her there ? 

Oh, what a pity! 
On, on with dismay. 
She hastened away; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

And her eyes they did glare, 
As she left her babe there, 
Where the moon cast a beam, 
On its face in the stream, 
Drowned in the slime, 
'Midst the cold water's slime. 



229 



HUMAN RATS. 

FARMERS are like the busy bee. 
They're famed for thrift and industry; 
They reap the ripened harvest still, 
The golden sheaves their barns do fill; 
They from their plenty grind the meal 
That human rats do sometimes steal; 
The thief s a rat that steals the meal. 
But never once will earn the meal. 

Mechanics — they're more like the ox, 
To labor's ways most orthodox; 
They rear the walls with patient skill — 
In fact 'tis they that make the mill 
That grinds the corn to finest meal, 
That human rats do often steal; 
Tramps are rats that eat the meal, 
But never once will earn his meal. 

Carriers — they are like the ass — 

Through all the whole broad world they pass; 



230 Miscellaneous poeMs. 

By ship, by rail and wagon's aid, 
They carry corn to have it made 
Within the mill, into good meal — 
Good meal that rats do eat and steal; 
The bar-room rats consume the meal, 
But seldom will they work for meal. 

And so of all earth's mortal throng, 

' Tis industry that bears along 

Upon its tide of thrift the race; 

Thus, from such source 'tis clear to trace, 

Contented labor wins the meal 

That swarms of human rats do steal; 

Idlers are rats that eat the meal. 

But always shun to earn the meal. 

Farmers are like the busy bee; 

Rats are the aristocracy; 

Mechanics, like the sturdy ox; 

All rats, who deal in fancy stocks; 

Thou, Commerce, swift and strong of limb! 

Rats, all who through life's journey skim; 

All triflers, rats who eat the meal, 

But shirk the toil that earns the meal. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 231 



LOVE'S SWEET REFUGE. 

WHEN morning gilds the empyrean hight 
Of youthful hopes with visions bright, 
Illuming all the path before, 
Then love's sweet fancies brighten more 
Than riches can, the path of youth, 
For love then owes its charm to truth. 

'Tis love's bright beams that cast a spell 
Of mystic power, when hearts do swell 
With its new, glowing impulse born, 
That lights the way on that bright morn, 
When trusting hearts embark together, 
To buffet through life's stormy weather. 

What though a thousand ills beset, 
And want with woe pursuing yet, 
Obscures the morning's rosy light, 
Yet love, true love, with aspect bright, 
Will cast a spell o'er all the soul. 
To keep it safe at that bright goal. 

To hold it sure forever there, 
From risk of doubt or cankering care. 
'Tis truest when sore trials urge. 
When affliction's dark waves surge: 
Not rank or wealth can purchase more. 
Than pure affection's priceless store. 



232 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Misfortunes will but test its worth, 
Will bring the soul to that new birth, 
Where it is anchored sure at last; 
No more on doubt's dark billows cast. 
No more by phantom shadows gloomed, 
Where oft young love hath been entombed. 
Two hearts by mutual love entwined, 
Made glad where steadfast worth doth bind, 
Will never doubt, will never quail; 
Such hearts of truth will never fail; 
Then mutual love will soothe each care, 
And spread its blessings everywhere. 

The surest haven of delight, 

Is where pure love beams calmly bright. 

Serenely as life's beacon star; 

It, too, will guide to realms afar, 

When life is o'er to meet again. 

All freed from taint of earthly stain. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 233 



THE DRUNKARD'S FATE. 

1 MARKED the man well whilst there chained to his cell; 
Why he drew my attention the reason I'll tell; 
There all did agree very seldom you'd see, 
One so manly, so stalwart and handsome as he. 

But that look of deep care, too, his wild, haggard air, 
And his eyes furtive glance told a tale of despair; 
Drunken frenzy and pain had unsettled his brain, 
Too, delirium's fever had come in its train. 

Once his eyes had a hue of a deep, softer blue, 
Where a ray of a pure, holy light shone through. 
When in innocent youth, like a well-spring of truth, 
Deep love for a mother pervaded in sooth. 

When in prayer they knelt her warm clasp he then felt. 
Pure affection that time in his young bosom dwelt; 
Love unselfish is strong, it abideth full long. 
And enraptures each sense like a beautiful song. 

But time on its wing, whatever song you may sing, 
Many changes full fraught with misfortunes will bring; 
That parent to guide, early passed from his side. 
She grieved when he strayed and from sorrow soon died. 

As I gazed on his face, I could there surely trace, 

That sin in his sonl had a firm dwelling-place; 

' Twas the dark crime of Cain that sore troubled his brain. 

For whilst maddened with drink his own brother he'd slain. 



234 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

And thought's last resource, had furrowed remorse, 
Whilst reviewing the past of his swift downward course; 
Immured there insane, his wild pleadings are vain, 
He never will know of sweet freedom again. 

Oh! think of the blame and the burden of shame. 
That clings to the murderer's terrible name, 
To be severed from friends, the communion that tends, 
To enjoyment that virtue and innocence lends! 

What a horrible curse is the quenchless thirst! 
It distroyeth men's souls like a viper, when nursed; 
Oh, how surely it clings, till it cruelly stings! 
Whilst sin with its blight, oh, how swiftiy it brings! 

Of wine then beware! ever shun it with care! 
For danger and shame, too, deep sorrow dwells there! 
For who rightly can think when he's frenzied with drink, 
Of the peril that lurks round the goblet's dread brink? 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 235 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 



CORNELIA. 



DOMESTIC FELICITY. 



THEY sing of woman's witching grace, 
Each charm that glows in Beauty's face; 
How lovely features cast a spell, 
To bind the heart and soul as well; 
All potent in its mystic might, 
To thrill the mind with visions bright. 

But, ah! a more enduring charm, 
A spell to shield the soul from harm, 
Is that calm trait to woman given — 
The one that brings her nearest heaven — 
Is sweet devotion, love of home, 
That binds a family band as one, 
And dignifies the virtuous fair 
Maternal head presiding there. 

Surely the Roman wife was wise, 
Who knew above all else to prize, 
Above the gems that earth can yield. 
The ore of mine, the wealth of field. 
The treasures of the jeweler's skill 
That lure the vain and weak of will. 
O'er shimmering fabrics of the loom. 
O'er georgeous hall's vast spacious room, 



236 TYPES OF WOMEN. 

The love to mothers, only, known, 
That flows responsive to their own. 

Pure Votaress at the family shrine, 
What honored niche in fame is thine! 
Guardian alike of woman's fame, 
And of thy lord's and children's name; 
All men before the worth do bow, 
That honors each Hymenial vow. 

Sweet, wifely faith and mother-love. 
Flow from the hand of God above. 
Priceless gifts for man's delight. 
To make his earthly walk more bright; 
So linked by faith hearts love forever. 
No earthly cross the charm can sever. 

A wife's and mother's spotless name. 
Is valued more than wealth or fame; 
A world in homage treasures still, 
Those names that wake the heart's deep thrill. 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 



237 



FELICIA HEMENS. 

GENIUS. 

OH! thou, with pinions undefiled, 
With woman's spirit meekly mild, 
Too gentle for the storms that beat 
Like fierce simoon in summer heat, 
To cast a spell o'er thy sad heart. 
And bid each youthful romance part, 
Thy genius doth inspire us still, 
Sweet soul of song! 

For o' er each page thy spirit still, 
Breathes freshly as it ever will; 
Breathes the soft notes of kindly cheer, 
The symphonies that claim a tear 
From Friendship's speaking eye; 
The heart so touched can only sigh 
Whilst pulsing to each glowing thought, 
Thou child of impulse! 

If in the spirit lingering near 
The scenes thy soul in life held dear, 
How sweet to soothe its holy rest, 
To know thy earthly walk was blest, 
All radiant with the balm of hope, 
Whose buds of promise blushing ope, 
And bloom along life's thorny way, 
By thee made bright! 



238 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 

ELIZABETH FRY. 

SYMPATHY. 

LET Others praise some hero's deed, 
Where Valor fought for king or creed, 
How freely bled in dubious strife, 
In doubtful cause laid down a life; 
But Mercy yields not to the brave 
Her laurels, lest he strikes to save; 
For only patriots point the way, 
To light mankind to brighter day. 

Not mighty deeds can so adorn. 
As grace from pure affection born; 
For when sweet thoughts of charity, 
Concerned for weak humanity. 
Strive uppermost o'er selfishness. 
Then will each worthy soul confess. 
And joy to own such heart's true worth, 
Concede the meed of noble birth. 

'Tis thine, Elizabeth, true soul! 
Bright beaming at the highest goal 
Attained where mortals most aspire; 
Pity did prompt thy heart's desire, 
To strive to soothe the troubled heart, 
Where sin obscured bright virtue's part; 
To calm the breast where sorrow dwelt. 
Wipe out the shame that blame still felt 
When wandering from the fold in guilt; 
To turn such soul where faith hath built 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 

Secure its hopes of bliss on high, 
To bind the wanderer by love's tie. 

Her's is a tale of sacrifice, 
Where hearts athirst did need solace; 
Of kindly deeds that shall not die. 
That brightly orb the Christian sky. 
She freely gave of store of love, 
Bestowed on her from God above, 
To grace dear Sympathy's sweet cause, 
Kind woman's name and pity's laws. 



239 



LADY MACBETH. 

AMBITION. 

SEE her! — but fancy's whim we trust — 
Though pictured true as child of dust. 
By one who viewed the ways of man 
With eye impartial, true to scan; 
Not too o'erwrought of life's brief walk, 
Of idle thought or poet's mock; 
There have been those in form as fair, 
Would barter hope of Heaven there. 
Where fell Ambition strews the way, 
With tempting gewgaw's vain display, 
That prompts vain Pride to vaunt the worth 
Of power unblest through virtue's dearth. 

Dim shadow through the long dark past, 
Athwart the fame of woman cast! 



240 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 

O Christ! dispel the perturbed form! 
Assert the dawn of that bright morn, 
When woman never more may own 
Near sisterhood to hearts o'ergrown 
By selfishness — Ambition's toils, 
That all the meed of beauty spoils! 

What folly 'tis to mar a life, 
When rank Ambition wakens strife! 
More hateful still it doth appear, 
When its fell spirit glows to sear, 
To quench each kindly thought the while. 
Where woman's modest worth should smile; 
The mother-love, the healing balm 
That flows from virtue's trusting calm; 
Where gentleness asserts its way. 
To soothe where care doth cloud life's day. 

Let innocence with honor twine, 
Ambitious only as the vine, 
To climb where duty points the way. 
And bask where Heaven directs the ray. 
To light the path to virtue's goal. 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 241 



CLEOPATRA. 



GORGEOUSNESS. 

WHERE Cydnus spreads his ample waves, 
That quicken all the shores he laves, 
Sweet zephyrs fanned his glowing breast, 
That time by countless navies prest. 

Lo! Cleopatra borne along, 
Swift gliding all the fleets among; 
Her royal barge there led the way, 
Surpassing thought in gay display; 
As on proud Egypt's vessel bore. 
Applause rang out along the shore. 
Where on each bank a countless throng, 
Beheld the pageant sweep along; 
In time the rowers plied each oar. 
While spice perfumed the gale before; 
Reclining clad in splendor's maze, 
The lovely queen bloomed to the gaze; 
Around rich rugs of orient lands 
Were spread profuse, and maiden bands 
Bowed low, whilst boys the beauty fanned. 
The barge's deck with cunning planned. 
Was canopied by silken screen. 
Of softest mesh and purple sheen; 
Whilst music lent its witching spell, 
In sweetest cadence rose and fell, 



242 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 

Just as the barge drew near the strand, 
Where Roman legions held the land. 

Gayly a thousand banners streamed, 
The light from burnished weapons gleamed, 
As Anthony advanced to greet. 
In war's array great Egypt's fleet; 
He on the gorgeous pageant gazed, 
Was by its splendor much amazed. 
Ah! then a spell was woven round 
That warrior's soul, deep and profound, 
When Egypt's queen mid pomp and show. 
Midst every charm of splendor's glow. 
Cast anchor on the quiet tide. 
Close by the marble landing's side. 

Lo! on the deck rich cloths were spread. 
Silk awnings hung profuse o'erhead; 
And many trooped around the while. 
Obsequious all to fortune's smile; 
Her guards advanced to shield from harm, 
Whilst perfume lent its potent charm, 
And music's soft voluptuous strain. 
Was wafted o'er the waves again : 
Rich robe of purple web she wo re. 
Profusely gemmed of priceless store; 
Applause, too, lent a deeper flush. 
An added charm to beauty's blush; 
Her proud eyes beamed in triumph when. 
That warrior grew obsequious then. 

He, who to man had scorned to bow. 
Had laurels won from Conquest's brow. 
Enamored of a Syren's smiles. 
Was vanquished by a woman's wiles. 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 243 



ELIZA McCOOK. 



PATRIOTISM. 



" npHOUGH keen the pang that bids us part, 
1 My boys I bid you go! 
Yes, go! yet know my mother-heart, 
Will cherish naught of woe, 

' ' If when in battle for the right — 
For ours is righteous war — 
You stand up bravely in the fight, 
I will not ask for more! 

' ' Your father who has gone before, 
He would not say you nay; 
Your country calls her sons to war. 
Nor would I bid you stay! 

" Go every one for freedom's cause! 
Our country needs you now! 
Where foes contend uphold her laws, 
Be that your sacred vow! 

" From childhood unto sturdy youth, 
I've known you loving, kind. 
And now the time will test your truth 
And courage, too, you'll find! 



244 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 

* ' Your mother bids you now go forth, 
Yet cherish in each heart, 
The cause, your honor and true worth, 
Should we forever part! 

"And when the battle's sternly fought, 
I'll wait for news from all. 
For joy with sorrow will be fraught. 
Should you then bravely fall! 

' ' No quailing hearts are yours I know, 
I see each eye beam high! 
My sons, I calmly bid you go. 
Nor heed your mother's sigh! " 

Those days that tried men's souls sped by; 

One boy they brought alone; 
That mother heaved a heart-felt sigh. 

For 'twas her youngest one. 

And soon another of her flock 

Was borne to the old home; 
He fell in the hot battle's shock. 

With comrades, many a one. 

Yet still another mangled form. 
They brought with loving care; 

He, too, fell midst the battle's storm, 
When victory hovered there. 

All passed away midst war's stern strife. 
The brave, the true and good; 

Bereaved of all, that mother, wife. 
On her lone hearth-stone stood. 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 

And now her brow is silvered o'er; 

She gave her country all; 
Her heroes have but gone before; 

She calmly waits God's call. 



245 



ROSALINE, THE SLAVE MOTHER. 

MATERNAL LOVE. 

ONLY a mother's heart could know, 
The burden of its dreadful woe. 
When first they stole away my pearl. 
My black-eyed, prattiing, baby girl! 

Though but the white-man's patient slave, 
This sorrow bows me to the grave; 
How could they take my darling child, 
And deem I'd still be meek and mild! 

No more I'll clasp unto my breast. 
The one I have so often prest; 
And now they've taken her away, 
I cannot help but moan each day! 

Her eyes and mine, she sweetly smiled 
When torn away; but I was wild 
When first they seized my Rosaline, 
And dragged her from this breast of mine! 



246 TYPES OP WOMEN. 

'Twas hard to bear my pet away! 
Can aught such cruel wrong repay ? 
If some one stole their child — ah! then 
They'd say they were most wicked men! 

Oh! no! they'll never soothe my heart, 
By telling me that slaves must part! 
'Twas all I had — they cannot know — 
My soul rebels — I loved her so! 

Who has o'er much, how should they know, 
The pangs a slave must undergo. 
When thus they break the closest tie, 
That love and life can bind us by! 

My spirit once was free and light. 
Before they stole my child that night; 
No recompense can e'er repay, 
The loss of her they stole away! 

I would not grieve if she had died! 
They tell me that I shrieked and cried. 
When from my arms they tore that form, 
Whilst I pressed kisses wildly warm! 

If she had died, her little grave 
Would be where lovely wild-flowers wave; 
I'd say, " Sleep on my pretty dove! " 
At least, I'd have that grave to love! 

But now I'm desolate and lone. 
For sorrow's all the lot I've known; 
My darling shed the first bright ray 
Of gladness o'er my darksome way! 



TYPES OF WOMEN. 247 

The only hope I ever had, 
They dashed away and termed me mad, 
Because my thoughts were fierce and wild; 
They broke my heart who stole my child! 

And now what charm has life for me, 
I'm barred from joys that others see; 
Because my skin's of darker hue, 
They'd have me bow and meekly sue — 

But no! I'll curse the sordid heart. 
That caused me and my child to part; 
If God forsakes the helpless slave, 
I still can seek a peaceful grave! 



SENTIMENT AND AEFECTION. 



249 



i'()i-:ms oi' silNTimI':nt and 
affection. 



A KISS. 



ATRIJE kiss when friends part is a small, triflinj^ thing", 
Hut njund life's cold walk, 'twill a radiance flinj;- 
Of joy and great gladness, and lighten the way 
Through this great busy world for many a day. 

And when we return to the loved, home and rest, 
A kiss for a welcome the heart prizes best; 
A kiss warm and true with bright glance of the eye, 
Will weave round the soul a fond, lasting tie. 

Oh! many a heart has long pined for a kiss, 
Has suffered in secret deprived of its bliss; 
Midst the struggles of life 'tis a trivial thing, 
I'ut from Sorrow's keen dart it [)lu( keth tlu; sting. 

We turn from the world, its passions and pride, 
I'^or Aff(.'Ction's fond kiss from the friend by our side, 
Who through trials and dangc^rs that circled the way, 
When the soul was despondent was faithful alway. 

There is joy in the kiss when Detraction's sharp dart, 
That has sunden.-d fond hearts till in anger they part. 
Is dispelled by Affection and bared to the view; 
Then a kiss is the seal of the trust they renew. 

L* 



250 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION 

Oh ! never again shall Doubt come between, 
Though unspoken the pledge, to the world though unseen. 
It has rent all the meshes that Slander wove round, 
And broken the fetters that Anger had bound! 

A long, loving kiss of Affection's sweet spell. 
Pressed warmly, oh, who its deep rapture can tell! 
The soul's troubled fountain is calmed of unrest, 
As the lips sweetly meet and a kiss is impressed. 

And childhood, how holy the kiss free from guile. 

Its innocence, trust, and its bright happy smile. 

As its arms are twined round its fond mother's dear form — 

All its world, its sure shelter from each boding storm! 

And, ah! her last kiss when death hovers near. 

When she views its last throes with great trembling and fear! 

Oh! who can depict all a mother's great love, 

That whelms from her soul as she kisses her dove! 

How the memory clings of a mother's fond kiss! 
In youth's sunny spring it gave gladness and bliss; 
What a tumult of deep tender thought it awakes, 
Till our whole pregnant mind with emotion partakes! 

All sacred that kiss as an angel's pure tear. 
The last kiss we impressed on those lips we held dear, 
Of her who thus guided our youth's happy day. 
How desolate now seems our future's dark way! 

The close ties that united are severed perforce. 
The past is remembered in Hfe's daily course. 
The chord that once bound us, a light golden chain, 
Its links that are broken now only remain. 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 251 

Never more will the blossoms that brightened our way, 
That we once thought would bloom round us always to stay, 
Shed their sweetness to gladden the days yet to be, 
But their fragrance yet dwells with each past memory. 

So the thought of a kiss from the lips we held dear. 
Though the memory be mingled with many a tear. 
Is treasured forever whilst life holds its sway; 
Midst Sorrow's deep gloom it still sheds a bright ray. 



THE OLD HOMESTEAD. 

MY heart feels lone and sad to-night in the old home- 
stead's bounds. 

Where quiet reigns supreme within, no cheerful mirth 
resounds; 

Its chambers now are peopled all with phantasy's dim train. 

Vague forms and visions from the past recalling youth 
again; 

Of youth when joyous laughter rang and echoed through 
its halls. 

When fancy's pictures still looked bright, before life's pleas- 
ure palls. 

Thus when the shades of evening fall I sit in pensive mood, 
Then as the shadows flit around I cannot help but brood 
O'er many a scene of childhood's time that happened in this 

room, 
Whose actors now have vanished and are sleeping in the 

tomb : 



252 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 



Here once those dear familiar sounds, now voices of the 

past, 
Through all its space in loving tones a home-like spell did 

cast. 

All, all are fled, but still it seems as if they lingered near — 
So deeply is each form impressed of those forever dear; 
How can my heart forget the love that beamed from every 

face! 
Affection still in memory each speaking eye can trace; 
Thus thought still flings a moment's light, one last, bright, 

lingering beam, 
Like radiant halo cast around life's fondly cherished dream. 

First passed away the revered form, the mother of our home, 
And then a brother left us all and went abroad to roam; 
A sweet and gentle sister next, a lovely flower from birth — 
Soon after that a father's place was vacant at the hearth; 
Time severed one by one the ties that early youth had 

known. 
And when the last loved form was gone, 'twas desolate and 

lone. 

The spirit fain must wander on where loving memories cling. 
That o'er the past of life' s brief day their hallowed radiance 

fling; 
And so, the old, old homestead, is cherished for the past, 
The ties that bind me to it a sacred spell have cast; 
And 'though its walls are crumbling and fast sinking to 

decay, 
I'll cling to its loved hearth-stone, till I, too, shall pass away. 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 253 



THE BURIAL AT SEA. 



"The impressive burial service was read. The Captain then 
ordered the cover of the weighted coffin to be screwed down, when 
the bereaved mother besought a last kiss; then amidst the wailings 
of the mother and tears of all present it was lowered into the vast 
deep." 



OH! wait, Captain, wait! let me see her once more! 
One last kiss impress, for my sad heart is sore! 
My loved one! my darling! must I bid thee adieu. 
Thus part, and forever be sundered from you ? 

Sweet Gretchen! dear Gretchen! loved child of my heart! 
How fair thy sweet face; oh, 'tis hard thus to part! 
Thus consigned thy dear form to the sea's cold embrace. 
Where its waves will close round thee to whelm in its space ! 

The cold chill of despair, as the wild billows roll. 
At thy fate, my dear Gretchen, has struck to my soul! 
In the shriek of the storm as the wind wails around, 
Methinks I do hear thy sad moans now resound! 

What bewildering thoughts do consume as they burn ! 

All is dark, in the future no ray I discern 

Of the bright thoughts that centred when my loved one was 

born! 
Now fancy's sweet pictures forever are shorn! 



254 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 

And my heart will be lone in the land far away, 
With my blossom at rest 'neath the ocean's cold spray! 
As I gaze on the waves that have closed o'er my child, 
How dismal the scene, so tumultuous and wild! 

Could I but have borne her dear form to our cot, 
Where her father now waits all concerned for our lot — 
Could her grave but be there in its garden of flowers. 
Decked with their brightness, all gemmed by the showers — 

Though our souls would be sad at her untimely rest, 

Yet, 'twould soothe our tried hearts, thus by sorrow 

oppressed. 
For with wreaths we could deck the low bed where she'd 

lie; 
Then her sweet face from memory never would die. 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 255 



THE PARTING. 

"The sails disappeared. The emaciated and broken-hearted 
crowd, of those whom a stroke more cruel then that of death had 
made widows and orphans, disappeared to beg their way home 
through a wasted land, or to lie down and die by the roadside of 
grief and hunger." — Macaulay^ s History of England. 

THEY embarked to depart from the land of their birth, 
Whilst their loved must return to a desolate hearth; 
Then Ireland, thy heroes were doomed to forego, 
The joys and the honors that patriots know ! 

O'erwhelmed by misfortune, in vain they had sought 
To rescue their land, 'twas in vain they had fought; 
Those brave had been comrades on many a field; 
Midst scenes of destruction their hearts had been steeled. 

Though hardened by warfare, by fortune forsook. 
Not unmoved could each eye take a last lingering look, 
Where the land of their childhood lay smiling before, 
For they felt they were doomed to view it no more. 

They waved the last token, love's parting adieu. 
To wife, child, and maiden, each heart that was true; 
Then the spectre of Sorrow cast a gloom over all. 
And the eyes of each hero were dimmed at her call. 

Then Erin ! sweet Erin ! they left at that hour, 
All the heart holds most dear at the dictate of power; 
And their souls will will be lone in the lands far away. 
To be severed thus ever from the loved who must stay. 



256 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 

Too, Erin! thy daughters were wailing with woe! 
'Twas the outburst of sorrow, affection's pure throe, 
As they felt their bereavement more cruel than death, 
More dread than the scourge of the pestilence' breath. 

Those true hearts were severed 'midst anguish and woe; 
'Twas the direst of sorrows, the heart's overflow 
With its grief that was echoed, prolonged in their wail, 
As the sails in the offing were bent to the gale. 

Their eyes were transfixed on the vessels that bore 
Their loved from the strand that would know them no more; 
They tearfully gazed o'er the ocean's broad blue. 
Till those sails o'er its billows had faded from view. 

Thus severed, returned to each home once so bright, 
Then made desolate all, in the gloom of its blight; 
For despair with its darkness had chilled the heart's throes, 
Evermore with the sorrow affection best* knows. 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 257 



IN MEMORIUM. 

POOR, lonely and uncared for now midst selfish passion's 
play, 
And though the throngs pass coldly by unheeding on their 

way, 
One friendless and forsaken all, upon life's restless tide, 
Yet, once I had a faithful friend firm standing by my side. 

One heart that beat responsive to each sweet endearing throe, 
That wakes the purest tides of thought in free impulsive 

flow; 
Though ours was but a humble lot beset with want and care. 
That faithful soul with cheering smile was ever biding there. 

She bloomed in beauty on my way when life was young and 

free, 
Her spirit filled our cottage home with hopefulness and 

glee; 
And when the days were dark with care and lowering clouds 

o' erhung, 
Then glowed her wealth of tenderness that round its blessing 

flung. 

It cheered me 'midst despondency when stern misfortune's 

shock. 
With icy hand of death had claimed the elder of our flock; 
And if my bosom fondly clings to memories of the past. 
Their treasured thoughts now o'er my lot a hallowed 

radiance cast. 



258 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 

Those clustering pearls of memory, like sunshine to my 

heart, 
Have cheered me on life's dreary way since she and I did 

part; 
They've bid me love the shady nook where sleeping by her 

side, 
I've laid the last, our baby girl, in quietness to bide. 

Bereft of every kindred tie, my heart now feels the dearth — 
My soul it pines to join in love who early fled from earth; 
So now I'm calmly waiting, lone waiting on the shore, 
For the summons to unite us in the sweet evermore. 



THE FATHER'S RETURN. 

A CHRISTMAS TALE. 

O MOTHER! dear mother! to-morrow you know, 
Will be that loved day to festivity dear — 
Merry Christmas 'twill be! It is long, long ago, 
Since the time we all met to enjoy its good cheer! 

Will father come home to help keep it once more ? 

And, mother, will Santa Claus know we have moved ? 
Will he bring, like the Christmas I spoke of before, 

A darling big doll like the one I so loved ? 

Yes, well I remember how bright was that day. 
How nice it did seem to have many good things; 

Then we all were so happy, so merry and gay; 

When the loved meet together what pleasure it brings! 



suntiMent and affection. 259 

Then you, too, dear mother! looked happy and bright. 
In your pretty new gown with lace collar and cuffs; 

And Charlie's new toys were a source of delight; 
Then, too, Julie and I got our littie fur muffs. 

But mother! why now do you look so distressed, 
So pale, and in tears when I speak of the past ? 

I remember you said our Charlie was blessed, 
But sadly I've missed him, its sorrow has cast 

A cloud o'er the joy I was thinking was nigh, 

For I now feel quite lonely, although you then said, 

' ' That he and sweet Julie are up in the sky, 
Where the angels did welcome their spirits that fled." 

Oh, tell me, dear mother! was pa lost on the sea ? 

His ship, did it sink, and all drowned in the wave ? 
Will he never come back to his home or to me ? 

Was not God there, dear mother! to guide or to save? — 

How cold it is here! alas! how the wind blows! 

And I'm hungry, too, mother! — I'd like something nice; 
No light, and oh, gracious! how dark it now grows! 

A knock at the door — I'll be there in a trice. 

Only the postman with this little note; 

My! I thought it was Santa Clause coming to bring 
Me the gown that I said I would like when I wrote 

Last Wednesday to him — but instead not a thing! 

I am quite out of breath — I was sure it was him ! 

But mother! what is it? you look so amazed 
You frighten me much, for the light is so dim — 

So speachless — do tell me and not act so dazed. 



26o SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 

Pa coming! was saved! why I'm glad as can be! 

Be here to-morrow and is feeling quite well! 
Oh, won't that be nice, though there is but us three! 

I feel quite delighted! much more than I'll tell. — 

Dear father at last in our arms to enfold ! — 

I've been watching so long that I thought it was late; 

I've waited since morning broke frosty and cold, 

And I saw you at once when you stopped at the gate. 

See mother, so happy she scarce can rejoice! 

And look! see! who's coming? why mother! it's Paul, 
The grocery man's clerk, with the queer squeaky voice. 

With a lot of good things — what to do with them all 

I surely don't know; too, the coal-man and baker, 

And goodness! the butcher's boy, Jake, with some fowls; 

One's a turkey — and ma! there comes the shoemaker! 
Do see! here's a package with flannels and towels. 

Oh! this is the joUiest Christmas I guess. 

Most eventful I've known, and happiest day! 

There father! another long kiss I'll impress; 
Now promise you'll never again go away. 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 261 



FOND MEMORIES. 

THOUGH but a little withered flower, 
Close nestling in a book, 
In memory's page it marks the hour, 
That brought the first fond look. 

A pretty, tiny, wild-wood flower. 

Known as forget-me-not; 
She plucked it in a shady bower, 

I know the very spot. 

I still recall the shout of glee, 

That rang adown the glade, 
As merrily she showed to me, 

Her prize, the happy maid. 

'Tis but a fragile withered thing, 
Placed by her hand with care; 

But oh, what thoughts around it cling! 
What memories cluster there! 

Others view with thoughtless smile, 

This fragment of a flower; 
They know not it recalls the while, 

The past in life's brief hour, 

Reminding my tried soul thus ever. 

Of sorrow's deadliest dart, 
Of ties I would not, cannot sever — 

They're graved upon my heart. 



262 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 

It, too, recalleth from afar, 
The happy days now flown; 

Some thoughts that centre round it are, 
The sweetest I have known. 

'Tis hke a message from above, 

I found it but by chance; 
'Tis sanctified by mutual love; 

Not gems could more enhance, 

To prize the value of each leaf, 
That tender thoughts twine round. 

To soothe a heart o'erwhelmed with grief. 
To her sweet memory bound. 



THE VOICES OF THE PAST. 

TIS sweet to sing of other days. 
When life was young and free, 
When friendship's warm responsive rays. 
Bound loving hearts to me. 

But where are those then blithe and gay, 
That waked the heart's fond throe? 

Those loving ones have passed away. 
And left me naught but woe. 

The soul that feels for kindred ties — 

Affection's pensive spell — 
The memories of the past will prize, 

And own their power as well. 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 263 

E'en when the heart feels gay and light, 

Where mirth doth most abound, 
And nature clothed in aspect bright, 

Smiles sweetly all around, 

Still, still those voices of the past, 

Are ever blending there — 
Through every scene where e'er 'tis cast, 

Are present everywhere! 

Could I but call those spirits round. 

That made the homestead bright. 
That all the bliss of boyhood bound. 

In one glad realm of light, 

And soul to soul commune awhile, 

Once more with those held dear, 
I'd shun the world, its pride and guile. 

To mingle there a tear. 

Yet, yet! those echoes of the past, 

I fain must stifle here; 
For all those memories round me cast, 

Urge duty still should cheer. 



264 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 



A CHRISTMAS TALE. 

''T'WAS but one year ago to-night, 

1 When all our little world looked bright. 
Ah, me! how soon can sorrow's dart, 
Pierce with pain the happiest heart! 

That Christmas found our family band 
The merriest hearts in all the land; 
No lowering cloud obscured the way 
Made bright by sweet affection's ray. 

Our Willie was our only boy, 

His brightness filled our home with joy; 

While Alice was our fairy pearl, 

A sweet, wee, dimpled, baby girl. 

How joyous broke that Christmas day, 
That smiled in gladness round our way! 
Our pleasant home was gay and bright. 
For love there shed its tranquil light. 

Our children with their simple store 
Of toys and candies spread before — 
A book, a horse and other things — 
And Alice had a doll with rings — 

Were boisterous in their childish way. 
But spent the hours in happy play. 
Methinks I see sweet Alice still, 
And hear the joyous laugh of Will. 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 265 

Ah, me! 'twas but a year ago 
That Christmas brought its genial glow; 
But now those toys are lain away, 
And silence reigns supreme to-day. 

In all the house no sound is heard, 
No joyous laugh or prattled word; 
I cannot trust my heart to view 
Those treasured toys the children knew. 

For oh! what sacred memories cling, 
To sanctify each childish thing! 
Only a mother's heart can know, 
Why trifles thus are valued so. 

Bereaved of all my heart held dear. 
Oh! what can quell the welling tear. 
When memory brings in fancy's train, 
The past unto my mind again ! 

Of all that band, I mourn alone. 
My husband, Willie, Alice gone! — 
Blame not if sadness clouds my brow; 
There's naught but Heaven can solace now. 



266 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 



ELLA. 

SWEET Ella, she has passed away, 
She lived but as a summer day; 
Her life's brief span was all as bright. 
As tranquil, too, as summer night 

She as a bright, brief vision came, 
Though cherished, winged away again; 
Came like a message from above. 
To test our soul's unfathomed love. 

Or as a lovely flower to bloom, 

With transient beauty to illume. 

Make glad our home with hope's bright ray, 

To wither then and fade away. 

Her spirit knew no soil of earth, 
Of sorrow's chill or friendship's dearth; 
All pure and free from sinful blight, 
Departed to the realms of light. 

Loaned by our Father for awhile, 
I grew to love her sunny smile. 
Her wistful glance, each winning way; 
It made me happy every day. 

And still that winsome smile I see. 
It brightly beams to memory; 
E'en now in lovely angel-form, 
Her spirit bids me cease to mourn. 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 267 

I sometimes think, as others say, 
She was but loaned to point the way, 
To turn me from the thoughts of earth, 
And lead my soul to power birth. 

Father! all is mystery. 

1 cling to earth, and Edgar, thee. 
My loved, my husband — still I know 
My spirit soon from earth must go. 

I longing view the vistas bright. 
All radiant with celestial light. 
And Ella dear with angel-bands. 
It seems so near we just join hands. 

And then my spirit sinks once more, 
Doubting, bewildered, as before; 
O God! implant new faith in me, 
For all before is mystery. 



THE EXILE OF ERIN. 

MAID. 



M 



ADAM! a man distressed and old, 
Begs food, and shelter from the cold, 

MISTRESS. 



Admit him then, for 'tis a day 
Most bitter to pursue one's way; 



268 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION 

Give food, for I did note him well, 

As he approached; his mien doth tell, 

As I do think, of fortune past 

More bright then where his lot is cast. 

He doth excite my sympathy. 

I will approach and questioning see 

If he be worth further aid. 

Welcome, aged sir! through Joan, my maid, 

I learn you are oppressed by care 

And want; such lot is hard to bear. 

EXILE. 

Thanks, Madam, for your kindness to 
A wanderer all unknown to you. 
I loathe myself and shame to ask 
Thy aid, for 'tis a direful task. 

MISTRESS. 

I do lament that one in years 

So old, should lack in all that cheers; 

Speak on, if haply thus it be 

Thy will to tell thy past to me, 

For it doth seem most strangely wrong. 

That thou shouldst beg with want's grim throng. 

EXILE. 

Beg! O Madam! could you know 
The impulse of each passion's throe. 
My blood rebels at each vile breath, 
For begging is a living death. — 



SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 269 

God knows, I crave that death may end 

The miseries that want doth lend. 

My lot — 'tis an uncommon one; 

'Twas wrought by fate that could not shun 

To act where honor prompts the heart; 

I could not play a baser part! 

If crime — I loved my land too well! 

My house their honor would not sell. 

Yes, I, a cripple, old and lone, 

Begging for the stranger's bone. 

Can trace my birth in kindred tie. 

To Murogh O' Brian, Ard-Righ, 

And Gormly Hy-Niel of Ossory, 

Whose names still live in minstrelsy. 

MISTRESS. 

Indeed! how hap'ed it then that you 
Should be an outcast wandering through 
A foreign land, bereft of kin ? 
I hope thy soul is free from sin. 

EXILE. 

Linked by mutual wrongs we were. 
No fears our bold hearts could deter; 
We strove that justice might prevail 
O'er tyranny that cursed our vale; 
They called it treason to defend 
The rights our fathers earned like men. 
Could we do less ? could it be crime ? 
'Twas not called so in Brian's time 



270 ^EntimUnt and affection. 

When foreign plunderers sought our coast. 
Think not that thus I speak to boast. 
Our house decayed, its hearth-stone cold, 
The lands my childhood knew were sold. 
Because our proud hearts would not bend; 
To schemes of tyrants would not lend 
The sanction they desired; but why 
Prolong this tale ? banished to die 
Alone upon a foreign shore. 
Obscure, forsaken evermore — 
For I alone of all my name, 
Of that unhappy race remain. 
E'en yet in memory I trace 
The sacred mound where sleeps my race; 
There, too, my sweet, my gentle bride 
Lies lone, upon that hill's bleak side; 
Consigned thus early to the tomb, 
When fate decreed the exile's doom. 
Thought sets my old blood coursing free; 
Its purple tide I'd spill to see. 
To tread my own, my native shore, 
To bathe her grave with tears once more. 
I may not claim that grave to mourn, 
For soon my soul will reach its bourn; 
Unmingled though our dust remain, 
Our spirits soon will join again; 
Yes, soon I feel, upon the shore, 
Will join where tyrants vex no more. 

Madam! excuse the passion's throes. 
I thought not to intrude my woes; 
But kindness loosed the long pent tides, 
To ease a heart where sorrow bides. 



SENTIMENT AND AEFECTIoN. 27T 

MISTRESS. 

Receive this purse to ease thy way; 
Surely thou wilt not say me nay! 
For thus to aid thee on ihy part 
Will truly lighten much my heart; 
So, fare thee well! 

EXILE. 

With many thanks, Madam, adieu! 
May God his choicest blessing strew 
Around thee ever. 



SLEEP SWEETLY, GENTLE SPIRIT. 

SLEEP sweetly, gentle spirit. 
Upon the Savior's breast. 
Oh! why should mortal fear it — 
Such calm and holy rest ? 

Thy earthly cares are ended. 

In Heaven's blest retreat, 
Where peace and joy are blended, 

Where friends again shall meet. 

Dear one, my lot is lonely. 

Bereft of thy bright smile; 
Still earthly ties will only. 

Delay me here awhile. 



272 SENTIMENT AND AFFECTION. 

And though my soul is pining, 
And fondly clings to thee, 

Yet memories sweetly vying. 
Bring sacred thoughts to me. 

I would not stay thy spirit, 
Nor call thee back to share. 

Though thou alone couldst cheer it, 
This lot so fraught with care. 

Thy love's bright goal inspiring. 
Doth point the chosen way; 

My soul now craves, desiring 
The dawn of that bright day. 

When thy pure soul will greet me. 
On the celestial shore. 

Where angel-quires sing sweetly. 
Where loved ones part no more. 



FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 273 



FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 



PIXY'S BETROTHAL. 

'T^WAS where the wild- wood's wealth of green, 
1 O'erspreads the umbrageous vales between 
The purple hills of Sunnyland, 
That circle round on every hand; 
There 'neath the deep, secluded shade, 
That trees of various foliage made, 
Fantastic vines did fold and twine, 
Round many trees in strange design, 
Imparting to each tangled bower 
A charm that cast a witching power; 
Like a bright halo o'er that maze, 
Fair Summer spread a golden haze. 
Close sheltered in a leafy bower. 
Made gay with many a wood-land flower, 
Sweet Sunbeam, child of Joy and Light, 
Lay sleeping wrapped in garments bright. 
Her pallet soft of thistle down, 
Was swung upon the branches brown, 
'Neath where the tree-tops cast their shade, 
Where zephyrs with the leaflets played. 
That waked harmonious notes of sound, 
That filled the balmy air around. 



274 FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

And whilst the zephyrs sporting played 
Around the hammock of the maid, 
She sweetly slept, all guarded there 
By fairies of the upper air. 
Nor dreamed intruder hovered near, 
To fill her virgin breast with fear. 

That very time his pinions trying, 
Away, away went Pixy flying. 
From far unto that shady dell 
And flow'ry mead where fairies dwell. 
From whence to pluck a spell of power, 
From crystal cell of the dew-drop-flower— 
Spell, which all potent, doth impart 
A charm to win the coldest heart. 

'Twas whilst in flight that summer day, 
He spied the bower where Sunbeam lay; 
Charmed by the sleeping beauty's grace, 
The urchin ceased his way to trace; 
There held by love's deep spell of power. 
He loitered near that rustic bower, 
Resolved to ply his utmost art. 
To win the lovely maiden's heart. 

Love's ready wit the youth essayed, 
In glowing words his pain portrayed; 
His pleading gained the heart he sought, 
The maid was won; but Pixy, caught 
By guardian fairies hovering round. 
Was fast with silken meshes bound. 

They led him to the sylvan shade, 
Where the high- court in council staid. 
There sat in state the Fairy Queen, 
Arrayed in robes of golden sheen; 



FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 275 

With angry frown and features flushed, 
Waving her wand, all sound was hushed. 
She sternly said, " Bring forth the spy! 
Who violates our laws must die. 
Lest weighty cause shall plead to save; 
His acts condemn the prowling slave; 
There let the bold intruder stand; 
Now answer to our just demand; 
Our council bids thee truly tell 
What brought thee to our fairy dell; 
Thou must some cogent reason give. 
Or urchin, thou shalt cease to live." 

Then Pixy, filled with boding fears, 
Strove hard to quell his blinding tears. 
Essaying thus his cause to plead. 
Well had the captive youngster need. 
" I came, fair Queen, to pluck a spell 
That lies within a flower's deep cell. 
To soothe a sorrowing mortal's breast. 
All by a cruel maid oppressed; 
That spell once gained by thy consent, 
Then shall that lovely one relent; 
Thus as I winged my lonely way, 
I spied the bower where beauty lay; 
My breast was filled with strange alarms; 
How could I shun such budding charms? " 

Oh! who could hear that fond appeal, 
And for such misery fail to feel. 
Each subject fairy owned his cause. 
Pleading exemption from their laws. 
He, too, had won their Queen's kind heart, 
Who bade the guard his bonds to part, 



276 



FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

Relaxing while exclusive laws, 
Obedient to such weighty cause; 
" For if the blushing maid consent, 
Then let their destinies be blent. ' ' 

' Twas thus that Pix, the midget wight, 
First won the love of Sunbeam bright. 
All present of that fairy throng. 
Did signify approval strong; 
And their loved Queen no longer wroth, 
Consented to their plighted troth. 



PIXY'S WEDDING. 

WHEN even's golden-tinted light. 
Was softly blending with the night. 
All fairy dom that time rejoiced, 
In trancing strains so sweetly voiced, 
They gently cast a witching spell 
O'er all that sylvan, fairy dell. 

'Twas eve that crowned love's happiest dream. 
No wonder every nook did teem. 
With elfin sprites, a merry throng, 
Who caroled there in gladsome song. 

'Twas where the central, rustic bower. 
Made gay with wreaths of many a flower. 
Whose blending tints midst flash of light, 
Filled all who gazed with wrapped delight; 
There midst where dazzling splendors gleamed, 
And beauty's witching presence beamed, 



FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

Beneath where rustic banners waved, 
Where Nature's hand had richly 'graved 
Her tracery on the sheltering dome, 
That cannopied that regal home, 
Were gathered all of elfin worth. 
Each chief and dame of honored birth; 
The mightiest of the realm there staid, 
And the whole fairy-court delayed. 

Just then the joyous chorus woke, 
Triumphant o'er the scene it broke, 
As the fair bride and train appeared, 
And ranged them when the throne was neared. 

All lovely, smiling 'twixt her tears. 
With modest grace that most endears, 
The bride appeared, all blushing while 
In virgin innocence. Sweet guile! 
What a sure spell it doth impart, 
To captivate and chain the heart! 
'Twas magic art of fairy spell, 
Adorned that charming bride so well; 
Robe with extending train she wore, 
Which fairy maidens lightly bore; 
There sparkling gem's refulgent light, 
Like fire-flies, tiny lamps of night, 
Glowed in the airy web enfolding. 
That fair form of Beauty's moulding; 
Sylph-like and chaste was every grace; 
Who gazed, was spell-bound there to trace 
Each winning charm of that sweet maid; 
To her, admiring glances strayed. 
Approving Nature's cunning art, 
Or art that rivaled Nature's part. 



277 



278 FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

Nor lacked the groom in youthful grace; 
A rosy flush beamed on his face, 
And soul of love, spoke from those eyes, 
That oft had waked fair maidens' sighs. 

Rash youth! so thoughtless of the smart, 
When others owned a stricken heart, 
At last, at last thyself can tell. 
The pangs that with a lover dwell! 
No wonder when all doubts were laid, 
And thou hadst won the fairy maid, 
Joy winged thee there in happy flight, 
And sped thee on to sweet delight. 

Nor paused they there to linger long, 
Where gazed that much admiring throng, 
For the high-priest of every spell, 
Drew near and bound the couple well; 
And when the rite was deftly done. 
Then roused the choristers many a one — 
Pealed the glad notes of sweet refrain. 
All through the Fairy Queen's domain. 
And the youthful sprite of mystic might, 
Was wedded to sweet Sunbeam bright 



FAIRY AMD FANCIFUL POEMS. 



279 



THE FAIRIES' CHILD. 

Scene — Child lying in cradle asleep. Enter fairies and form 
a circle about the child. 

FIRST FAIRY. 

Oh, ho! I will bestow, 
Upon this child, all undefiled 
Like lovely morn, 
Sweet beauty's grace, 
In form and face; 
See every one! 
Behold! 'tis done! 

SECOND FAIRY. 

And lo! I will bestow — 
Oh see! — 'tis true, soft eyes of blue; 
Also my care, 
To give her hair 
Of shimmering gold, 
In ample fold. 

THIRD FAIRY. 

Too, know! I will bestow 
A charm all rare — two dimples there 
On features sweet; 
I'll do it neat; 
All charming now, 
Is she I trow. 



28o FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

FIRST FAIRY. 

Is all complete ? oh no — I know ! 
A disposition sweet and kind, 
All centred in a balanced mind. 

SECOND FAIRY. 

'Tis good! but there is one charm more, 
Of greater worth then all before. 

THIRD FAIRY. 

What is it we should now bestow, 
To have our child more lovely grow ? 

SECOND FAIRY. 

'Tis so! there's something more I know; 
We cannot, cannot it bestow! 
A soul all pure from God above; 
Let's pray that He our child may love. 

ALL THREE FAIRIES. 

O God! bestow of Heavenly grace, 
As day by day she grows apace. 
And Father, may it ever be. 
Each future thought will turn to Thee, 
Adorning her life's journey ever. 
Till Thou its tangled web dost sever; 
That her pure soul may wing its way, 
To home where gentle angels stay. 



FAIR Y AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 28 1 



CUPID CAPTURED. 

IT happened, Love, the rosy boy, 
All thoughtful for another's joy, 
Had left his home in happy flight, 
For Fairy-land one summer's night. 
To gain a spell of added power. 
Where mystic charms pervade each flower. 

But when Aurora's golden sheen, 
First in the far-off east was seen. 
He paused in flight awhile to stay. 
Where placid waters smiling lay. 
To rest where verdant Nature spread. 
With lavish hand a mossy bed. 

Viewing the fountain's crystal wave, 
He next resolved his form to lave. 
And in the flood his skill to try; 
Poising his downy wings on high. 
He boldly plunged where eddies broke; 
Too late, alas! his fears awoke. 

For whilst the wave his form enclosed, 
And in the deep the youth reposed, 
Lo! water-nymphs there caught him fast. 
And held him prisoner in their grasp; 
While held within their twining arms, 
His bosom panted with alarms. 



282 FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

Each naiad vied to soothe his fears, 
They wiped away his starting tears, 
They placed him in a boat of shell, 
They filled the air with music's spell; 
The lovely, laughing, sprightly throng, 
Propelled the fairy-boat along. 

With rapturous kiss and fond embrace, 
They bore him o' er the water' s space. 
And when the further shore was won, 
They crowded 'round him many a one; 
Then dried his ruffled pinions fair. 
And laid him down with gentle care. 

They quickly sought the watery tide, 
Whilst joyous laughter echoed wide. 
And music sweeter than before. 
Was wafted o'er the waves once more; 
The blushing boy jumped up in haste; 
The tide but whelmed them to the waist. 

Seizing his ready weapons light, 

He showered around an arrowy flight; 

Each snowy breast received a dart. 

All, all there owned a stricken heart. 

Still sighs are wafted o'er that deep. 

Where nymphs from pearl-lined caverns peep. 



pairv AND pancipvl poems. 



THE FATE OF THE FAIR. 

FANCY, bright Fancy went tripping along, 
She had for companion sweet Spirit of Song; 
They carroled and flitted midst flowers by the way, 
Thus their time was made joyous the whole summer day. 

No mortals so thoughtless, so happy as they; 
Then bright Fancy trilled forth a fantastical lay, 
Sweet Spirit of Song quickly caught the refrain, 
'Midst soft rippling laughter 'twas echoed again. 

Whilst thus of the sweet-scented zephyrs they quaffed, 
Each other they chaffed of their loves as they laughed. 
Till a valley all blooming with roses they'd won. 
When the maidens this sweet simple ditty begun. 

SONG. 

"A beauteous bird was flitting by. 
When Love espied it winging nigh; 
He caught the warbler in his grasp. 
Then in a cage 'twas prisoned fast. 

' ' But then, in joyous song, no more 
It sung as it had done before; 
It pined for the wild-wood so free. 
Where it had dwelt in ecstacy. 



284 FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

' ' Then who would cage a free, bright bird, 
To see it languish thus unheard. 
No more to hear in joyous note. 
Its song trilled from the warbler's throat? 

' ' So would our spirits pine to be. 
For one brief day less gay or free; 
We'll only love the wild- wood flowers. 
All brightly gemmed with summer showers. 

" From passion's claims our hearts are free; 
From bonds of Love we'll ever flee; 
Each rosy morn that dawns again, 
Will bid us sing this same refrain, 

" No, Love shall forge no chains to bind; 
His mandates we would scorn to mind; 
For who would be a tyrant's slave, 
In Hymen's bondage pine or rave? " 



Just then they had neared the vale's loveliest bower. 
All gay with bright hues of many a flower, 
Where they spied the boy, Cupid, who in tears there re- 
clined; 
First, to flee unperceived the maidens inclined. 

But the impulse of pity compelled them to stay, 
Oh ! how could they thus from sad Love fly away ? 
Their song was all hushed, whilst pensive in mood. 
And filled with compassion they wavering stood. 



FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 285 

All eager to soothe the poor urchin distressed, 
Tender thoughts sweetly blending their features expressed, 
Whilst deftly they smoothed the bright curls of the boy. 
And with his soft wings did caressingly toy. 

But Love's mood was soon changed, his tears brushed 

away, 
Then laughing arose to the maidens' dismay, 
And relentlessly aimed at the fair with his dart. 
So left each to sigh with love-stricken heart. 



VANITY. 

O VANITY! thou silly maid. 
Now listen whilst I thee upbraid; 
Why dost thou still with 'lusion strong, 
Deceive the much-admiring throng ? 

'Tis true thy face is fair and bright. 
But Hke the ignis-fatuus light. 
Who thee pursues, thou knowest well, 
Will sure with Disappointment dwell. 

Thou empty, airy, trifling thing. 
What follies all around thee cling! 
Coquetting ever, smiling still, 
But ne'er a promise will fulfill. 



286 FAIRY AND FANCIFUL POEMS. 

Appearing true and passing fair, 
But he who trusts will know despair; 
Better dwell with stern alarms, 
Than be deceived by thy false charms. 

My thoughts no more shall turn to thee; 
Henceforth thy witching snares I'll flee, 
And seek the cot of sweet Content, 
Where peace and happiness are blent. 



